Cheshire Cheese-Interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:05 PM Page I

Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:05 PM Page i

The Cheshire Cheese Cat

A DICKENS OF A TALE Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:05 PM Page ii

The Cheshire Cheese Cat

A DICKENS OF A TALE

Carmen Agra Deedy & Randall Wright

Drawings by Barry Moser Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:05 PM Page iv

D EDICATIONS

Published by To my luminous granddaughter, Ruby Rabbit PEACHTREE PUBLISHERS —C. D. 1700 Chattahoochee Avenue Atlanta, Georgia 30318-2112 www.peachtree-online.com To Dawn, my sunshine and joy —R. W. Text © 2011 by Carmen Agra Deedy and Randall Wright Illustrations © 2011 by Barry Moser For my friend Helen Casey-Brazeau and her Miss Bailey All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval —B. M. system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

Book design and composition by Barry Moser, with Loraine M. Joyner

A C K N O W L E D G M E N T S Manufactured in 2011 by Lake Book Manufacturing, Melrose Park, Illinois, USA 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 First Edition The authors wish to thank the following for helping turn this book into a reality: Our dear spouses, John and Dawn, for their patience, their advice, and the many hearty meals. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Deedy, Carmen Agra. Our friend Rohan Bayer-Fox for ensuring that these two presumptuous Yanks didn’t go too far The Cheshire Cheese cat : a Dickens of a tale / written by Carmen Agra Deedy afield. Any errors found herein are entirely our own. & Randall Wright ; illustrated by Barry Moser. Fellow wordsmith Rick Walton for providing just the right touch of Dickensian inspiration. p. cm. Summary: A community of mice and a cheese-loving cat form an unlikely alliance Our most splendid and Pippish editors, Vicky Holifield and Margaret Quinlin. at London’s Cheshire Cheese, an inn where Charles Dickens finds inspiration and Friends who generously read and commented on the manuscript: Tersi Bendiburg, Queen Victoria makes an unexpected appearance. ISBN 978-1-56145-595-9; 1-56145-595-4 Paula Lepp, Susan Rapaport, Dea North, and Bill Harley. [1. Cats—Fiction. 2. Mice—Fiction. 3. Cheshire Cheese (Inn)—Fiction. 4. Taverns The Ravenmaster at the Tower of London for the fascinating glimpse into the world of ravens. (Inns)—Fiction. 5. Great Britain—History—Victoria, 1837-1901—Fiction.] I. Wright, Randall. II. Moser, Barry, ill. III. Title. The Decatur Library for its excellent reference section and knowledgeable staff. PZ7.D3587Ch 2011 And Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese, of course, for inspiring this whole business on a misty London [Fic]—dc22 night in 2002, while in the company of Kates, Erin, and Lauren. 2010052275 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:05 PM Page vi

CHAPTER ONE

L ISTOF C HARACTERSIN O RDEROF A PPEARANCE

SKILLEY—A jaded street cat with a disgraceful secret and a shameful past.

PINCH—A perfectly foul villain and Skilley’s nemesis.

YE OLDE CHESHIRE CHEESE—This venerable inn is one of the grand ladies of London public houses. For centuries, she has attracted writers and word lovers the likes of Samuel Johnson, Mark Twain, and Arthur Conan Doyle. And cats. Let’s not forget the cats…

PIP—A mouse of Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese with more than a few secrets of his own. E WAS THE BEST OF TOMS. NELL—The innkeeper’s misunderstood daughter, who dotes on the inn’s animals. H He was the worst of toms. —The temperamental cook whose cheese is famous far and wide; CROOMES Fleet of foot, sleek and solitary, Skilley was a cat among she is often in a state of ill temper. cats. Or so he would have been, but for a secret he had MR. CHARLES DICKENS—A writer of some distinction who frequents the inn. carried since his early youth. A secret that caused him to HENRY—The portly innkeeper, who is desperate to rid his inn of cheese-thieving mice. live in hidden shame, avoiding even casual friendship lest ADELE—A barmaid, busybody, and hater of mice. anyone discover— “Scat, cat!” A broom came down hard out of London’s MALDWYN—The proud creature hidden away in the inn’s garret, upon whom cold and fog. Startled, Skilley leapt sideways and the broom rests the future of the realm. whiffled empty air. A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR—You didn’t really expect a description, did you? The cat, however, refused to scat. He eyed the dead ﬁsh, then the broom, calculating the distance between the two. Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:05 PM Page 2

“Off now, you thieving moggy!” the fishmonger wooden sign twitched in a swirl of January wind. Skilley shrilled. As if reading his thoughts, she kicked the fish shivered and looked longingly toward the cozy tavern. under her stall and cocked the broom for another swing. There has to be a way in, he thought. Angry women with brooms unnerved him. The only “Whatever it is you’re thinkin’—don’t,” came the encounter Skilley dreaded more was one with Pinch, warning, followed by a soft, dangerous purr. the terror of Fleet Street. “Ah, Pinch.” Skilley’s tone was pleasant, but this out- With a flick of his peculiar tail, Skilley turned his back ward calm belied the clenching of his stomach. “And a fine to the fishwife, putting all the disdain he could muster day to you.” into the sway of his hips. Cold-blooded and volatile, Pinch was not a cat to be But once he had rounded the corner, he flitted into trifled with. “You can keep your ah, Pinch and your fine an alley, where he ran its length with darts and dashes. day.” His eyes narrowed and the hackles on his ginger- Pausing at the end of the passageway, he surveyed the striped shoulders rose in challenge. “Just mind you keep familiar cobblestones and his spirits lightened. away from The Cheese.” Huddled over her fire, on a near corner, was the crone “The Cheese?” Skilley asked, unblinking. “What of it?” who sold roasted chestnuts for a ha-penny. A few paces “Mice,” Pinch said. from her, a boy hawked mulled cider. Down the street, “Mice?” Skilley’s eyes widened with pretend innocence. the song of the rag and bone man mingled with the “Aye, mice. The Cheese tavern is overrun with ’em.” rattle of carriages and the hum of pedestrians. “Ah.” Ah, Fleet Street, Skilley thought. “Grandest cheese in England, or so they say. And where Home to some of the finest eating and drinking in there’s that manner of cheese, there’s mice aplenty.” He London, the street was a perfect gathering place for paused and gave a pleasurable groan. “Fat and juicy. Plump scavengers. And down a certain modest court stood a and round, young and…tender.” His nose twitched as most particular pub, famed as a haunt for London writers: though it could already smell a nest of baby mice. Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese. “Mice aplenty, you say?” Skilley interrupted. Skilley peered through the gauzy mist. The inn’s hanging “The tavern is my ’ome. You ’old your distance.”

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Skilley sat and licked a paw, a token of of the conversation. A mouser, eh? A plan began to nibble his indifference. As an added touch, he at his mind—a plan of such elegant simplicity he was stroked behind his ear. “I wasn’t aware you amazed he hadn’t thought of it before. had a home, Pinch.” Stretching lazily, he rose, and with a last twitch of his “Aye, but I do. And that there’s it.” crooked tail said, “You are a cat among cats, Pinch, and He nodded toward the inn. I thank you!” “Hmmm, odd that,” said Skilley. “A “For what?” the ginger cat snarled after him. “What’d cozy tavern for a home, and yet here I do?” you sit on the icy cobblestones pass- Skilley didn’t answer. He was already engrossed in the ing the day with the likes of me.” audacity of a scheme so bold, so cunning, it would surely “Well, it will be my ’ome set him up for the rest of his nine lives. soon, you watch and see. The place is ate up with mice, and the master’s witless for want of a mousekiller.” “The Cheese is looking for a mouser?” A not-unpleasant chill danced up Skilley’s spine. “Yes, and I’m it. Cross me and s’elp me I’ll rip out your…” But Skilley had dropped the thread

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As Pip strained to listen, his thoughts returned to that blackest of days when his entire family, including ﬁve CHAPTER TWO brothers and sisters, had been cruelly murdered by some unknown hand. Croomes the cook. Pip harbored no doubt there. Her bloody Cat… cleaver was found nearby, was it not? Cat… Pip alone had been left alive—unseen, no doubt, Cat…

due to his unusually small size. Nell had heard his squeaks .

n n

and rescued him from the bloody carnage. Her anger and i

Cat… e

distress was such that her breath came in gasps as she h t

f carried him away up, up, u o Cat… p s r t i up, h a e tw t ist s up, in Cat… g, le w ib up in ss ding, impo “What do you hear?” the twisting, winding, impossib “Pip! Tell us what they’re say—” She’d stopped only when she reached the safety “Shhhh.” Pip raised a single digit on his tiny paw and of the attic. Holding the frightened little thing in one pressed it to his lips. His fellow mice fell begrudgingly silent. cupped hand, she’d used the other to search and ﬁnd Pip closed his eyes and pressed a fuzzy, delicate ear to the bag of lamb’s wool. She’d torn away a small cloud of the thin wall between himself and the chop room of Ye it, pressed it deep into her apron pocket, and then, with Olde Cheshire Cheese. To his dismay, the wall was not thin much tenderness, she’d nestled Pip safely inside. enough. He could catch only a word or two, which made When she heard his hiccuped sobs, Nell’s anger it difﬁcult, even for him, to understand the language of melted away, replaced with a welling up of grief that was the humans. as much for herself as for the mouse. Human language was a talent he had mastered while Nell’s mother had not experienced a violent death. living in the pocket of Nell, the innkeeper’s daughter. Quite the opposite. Her passing had followed a short and 7 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 8

rather unremarkable illness. Still, there had been no proper good-bye. Her young mother had simply fallen CHAPTER THREE asleep and never again awakened, like some princess in an ancient tale. Nell and her father were left feeling as though she’d never really gone, as though they might yet encounter her suddenly on a stair. The moment Skilley left Pinch’s side, he set his plan in Everyone agreed that Nell had not been the same since motion. Careful to seem unhurried lest his rival might be that day. The less charitable among the inn’s inhabitants watching, Skilley wove a path among the bustling humans went so far as to suggest she had gone a bit soft in the head. until he lost himself in the crowd. He waited but a few Whether Nell were sane, daft, or merely heartsick, the moments. Then, with a leap and a lightning sprint, he sped young mouse had found a friend in the newly orphaned to the unimposing front door of Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese. girl. Reaching into her pocket, she’d stroked his downy Not to the back door, mind you, where smelly fish back with a fingertip and whispered, “You sleep now. No bones and gelatinous puddings were hurled daily into one will hurt you, so long as you’re with me.” the gutter—and where no doubt, even now, Pinch and And she’d choked back a sob. the other toms and tabbies would be assembling for the It had been the best and worst day of Pip’s life. evening meal. That is, until this afternoon, when he finally quieted No. Skilley marched directly to the front door. his fellow creatures enough to hear spoken again, in the Unthinkable impudence for a cat. rumbling voice of the innkeeper, that ominous word… Halted by a brief moment of doubt—not in the plan itself, but in its execution, he paused. It was a perfect plan that Cat. was now perfectly ruined by…a door. Of all things. Skilley hated doors. He sat back on his haunches and considered the situation. He looked at his right paw. Then his left. 8 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 10

He examined the confounding doorknob. While he your troubles and wants to recommend himself as rat stared, as if in answer to his unspoken wish, a gloved hand catcher. He has a fierce enough look about him.” reached out from the fog and pushed open the door. The man’s words seemed serious, but the tone made “Good evening, Sir Puss,” said the owner of the hand. Skilley think that laughter lay not far behind. His voice sounded like the rolling bass notes of the great I’ll have to keep my eye on this one, he thought. pipe organ at Saint Paul’s Cathedral. “MOUSE catcher, if you please, sir,” corrected Henry, Skilley ignored the greeting and darted inside. The lowering his voice. “There’re no rats at The Cheese, sir, man and his companion followed close behind. “A slab of Providence be praised! Though enough mice to drive cheese and a loaf, Henry,” the first cried to the landlord. Adele to hysterics and my poor little Nell to near madness! “Mr. Collins is feeling a bit peckish this afternoon.” He Since Croomes came to our kitchen these ten winters pulled a leather-bound notebook from the pocket of his ago, our Cheshire cheese is finer than ever, and it would greatcoat and set it on a table. seem every mouse in London who’s got wind of it has “And who’s this with you?” Henry asked. come to claim his share.” Henry heaved a great sigh of “Why, you know my friend, Wilkie! He’s just penned consternation. He turned to Skilley. “Let’s see here, then, a work that will take London by storm. It’s about a ghostly mouse catcher.” woman in white—” The innkeeper bent forward, hands on knees, and “Writers,” Henry sighed. “No, I meant old tom there.” inspected Skilley with a critical eye. London’s alleyways, The innkeeper tilted his head in the direction of the cat. docks, and sewers appeared to have dealt harshly with As all eyes turned upon him, Skilley shot back the the young cat. The artful dodging of hansom cabs, most ill-tempered expression he could muster, hoping to chamber pots, and the inevitable fishwives’ brooms had impress them with his sincere ferocity. left him with a ragged ear, numerous scrapes, and a “Just another loyal patron for The Cheese,” said Mr. tracery of scars. Collins with a laugh and a respectful bow toward Skilley. Then there was the hooked tail; it looked to have once “Give him a slice of your best, Henry.” been painfully broken—but by what? The gentleman of the musical voice swept off his hat and “A right cruel-looking puss,” Henry said at last. “But cloak and hung them on a peg. “Perhaps he’s heard of can he catch mice, Mr. Dickens?” 10 11 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 12

C . D i c k e n s The great writer, however, was no longer listening. He had settled himself in a corner where he’d begun a vigorous scribbling in his notebook—scribbling and crossing out, Those were dire days, indeed scribbling and crossing out, unaware of those around him. The times were cruel “Don’t mind him,” Mr. Collins said, nodding toward Mr. ghastly Dickens. “He’s in a right state. Says he’ll never write again.” appalling “What? Never write again?” It was the worst of all the days the world has seen— “All for want of a beginning,” Mr. Collins answered. “The ﬁrst edition of his new magazine is coming out soon, but poor Charles seems to be at a loss for an open- Oh, why can’t I write an opening for my new novel that stands ing to his story.” Then he answered Henry’s question out from all the rest? about the cat. “If the look of that tom is anything to judge by, Henry, I pity your poor mice.” I’m at Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese today with my friend Wilkie. Skilley rewarded Mr. Collins with a low growl. I was looking forward to a marvelous afternoon of cheese and chummery,but with my well of words tapped dry, I can only despair. If only I could ﬁnd my opening as effortlessly as old From behind the wall, through the tiniest of cracks, with Henry has found his mouser… ever mounting alarm, a pewter gray mouse watched and listened. I think I’ll just jump in the Thames. Or become a lamplighter or a chimney sweep. Anything but a writer.

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He peeked through the crack again. The cat certainly looked dangerous, though there was something about his CHAPTER FOUR eyes that puzzled Pip—a hint of something out of place. But he had little time for puzzles now. It was time to act. Pip licked his paw, Without stopping to think any further, Pip hurried off flicked his ear, to call a meeting of the mouse council. No—he must call licked his paw. a full meeting of the mouse citizenry! And he would He smoothed his gray fur, be forced to use the ancient signal. The quickest route licked his paw… obliged him to pass directly beneath the feet of two patrons who’d just settled down to a fine repast of bread, A good washing always helped him think. pickles, and cheese. This situation was unraveling quickly. He’d seen it Catching a whiff of Cheshire, Pip’s highly refined happen with a shawl once—a fine silk wrap worn by an nostrils betrayed him, and he paused for a single fateful elegant lady who had left the upstairs dining room in a instant. rush. As she’d hastened through the chop room, her shawl And that was to prove unfortunate. had snagged on a nail that some ancient workman had left exposed in a baseboard. Pip had watched in fascination as a long, thin thread of indigo blue trailed the woman out of the pub, down the court, and around the corner. That was precisely the sort of feeling this cat gave him. Things were unraveling. “We’ve outlasted two fires, countless monarchs, and the plague,” he reassured himself. “We can survive a cat.” But whatever shall we do with Maldwyn? came the niggling afterthought. Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 16

At last Henry caught on. The bowlegged (practically parenthetical) ﬁgure of a man rocked back and forth as CHAPTER FIVE his face split into a broad grin. “So it would seem, Mr. Dickens, sir, so it would seem.”

Skilley surveyed the setting before him: men, meal, and mouse. With the patience of a natural predator, he held back. Not yet. Wait. It was essential that the innkeeper see him. He steeled himself, and then executed a perfect pounce and snatch. “Lookie ’ere,” cried Adele, a barmaid. “Why, ’e got ’im!” “Got who?” asked the innkeeper, who had missed the whole thing after all. “Got a bloomin’ mouse, ’at’s ’oo!” The barmaid clapped her hands and bounced up on her toes. “Ah,” said Mr. Collins, helping himself to a slice of cheese. “Well done.” The innkeeper looked about, confused by the shouting. Skilley strutted across the ﬂoor, letting the mouse’s long tail dangle from his mouth in plain view. “It would appear that you’ve secured yourself a mouser,” said Mr. Dickens.

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bones, the near escape just before the ﬁnal, ripping CHAPTER SIX blow—Pip grew suddenly queasy at the thought. The mercy of a swift kill was the best he could hope for. Another touch. Followed by a poke. Dark and damp. Not sharp claws, but a velvety paw on his side. He And—ouch—what sharp teeth! eased open an eye. He snapped it shut again at the near- Caught, but still alive, Pip’s heart pounded. ness of the beast. Instinctively, the little mouse employed the last desper- “Run,” the cat whispered. “If the innkeeper sees you, or ate strategy of the weak. He played dead. worse, that monster of a woman I passed on the stair—” But…what was that smell? Pip stiffened at the mention of what could only be No time for that thought now. Pip forced himself Croomes the cook. to remain limp, despite the pressing threat of the cat’s “What’s wrong with you?” the cat hissed. “Why don’t teeth around his thin belly. you run away?” Then came a jump. This time the tap was not so gentle. And a jolt. “What’s wrong with me?” Followed by a thumping descent. asked Pip, eyes still tightly His tormentor carried him—where? Down the stairs? shut. “I’m behaving as I ought And then, just as suddenly as he had been captured, in this situation. What’s he was rudely spat out onto the stone ﬂoor. wrong with you?” Pip lay as still as if his death were not feigned. The cat nudged him. If he’s going to eat me, Pip thought, why can’t he just stop the toying about? He’d heard about this horrid game before: the capture, the release, the swatting and batting, the snapping of tiny Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 20

“Me? Why, there’s nothing—would you get up and mice, why are you here at the Cheshire Cheese, and what leave!” The words were more plea than command. do you—?” Pip sat up and blinked curiously at his captor. “You There was that distracting odor again. don’t want to eat me, then?” This was too incredible. Could it be? From the moment he’d ﬁrst seen this animal, the smallest An outrageous thought plinked into his tiny mind. crumbs of understanding had been gathering in his mind, Only one way to know with certainty, thought Pip. though not quite enough to sate even a mouse’s appetite… He scurried up the nearest shelf. He scrabbled to his feet. “Come here,” Pip said in his best voice of command, This fellow looked like a most regular feline, but oth- usually reserved for the mouse council. erwise he was all wrong. Pip could feel it. And blast it all, Imagine a mouse speaking that way to a cat! Skilley what was that smell? ought to have been rightly insulted. But curiosity, which “You…don’t…eat…mice?” Pip guessed. had led to the downfall of so many of his kind, proved “No, I don’t,” snapped the cat. Failing to disguise the the stronger emotion. urgency in his voice, he added, “Now would you please “Here I am, then,” he said, and presented himself as if run away?” for inspection. “You don’t eat mice,” Pip repeated, rubbing his tiny “Closer,” instructed Pip. He leaned forward until his paws together as he paced back and forth. The puzzle was whiskers brushed against the other’s nose. The cat went quite just too intriguing. And Pip loved puzzles. cross-eyed just before he screwed up his face and let out a “That…is…what…I…said.” The cat pronounced each hearty ah-choo! word as if the mouse were hard of hearing. Nearly blown off his perch, Pip scrambled to regain “But…but why?” his balance. Staring at the cat in wonder and confusion, “Because, Crumb Catcher, when I imagine the little the truth struck him with full force. claws clutching at my tongue, the rubbery tail thrashing “Cheese!” he cried. in my throat, I am revolted. Wouldn’t you be?” “I should say so,” agreed Pip. “But if you don’t eat

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“Yes, I suppose you could. But I don’t think you CHAPTER SEVEN will—eat me, that is. We both know you don’t eat mice. You eat cheese.” “But...but how did you know?” “I can smell it. It emanates from every pore of you. At Skilley blinked. As the silence between them lengthened, first I couldn’t place it. So odd to find the scent of cheese a coldness overtook his heart, then gave way to a prickling lingering on a cat.” warmth. Last came the hot flush of shame. “Can others smell it?” Skilley asked with alarm, think- “Aren’t you a clever little mouse,” he purred, his voice ing back to Pinch. dangerously sweet. “Hmm. It is rather faint. I’d say you hadn’t had much “I have a name,” said Pip, ignoring the menacing tone. cheese since…Christmas.” He paused to wipe a bit of spittle from his fur. Skilley’s jaw slackened in amazement. “How could you “What?” Skilley choked back a laugh. A name? How know that?” absurd. To most cats, a mouse was a meal—a nauseatingly “The mice of Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese have quite a meaty one to Skilley’s way of thinking, but a meal all the refined sense of smell when it comes to cheese. Don’t same. worry. No sensible mouse among us would object to a “I have a name,” repeated the mouse. “It’s Pip.” cheese-eating cat.” “What kind of a name is that?” Skilley snorted. “Is it Skilley felt a relief so intense he had to sit, fearful that short for something?” he might faint. A cheese-eating cat. He had never heard those “Yes. It’s short for Pip. And Pip’s me. Don’t you have a words spoken aloud. Ever. Even by himself. name?” “Are you all right?” squeaked the mouse. Skilley regarded the mouse with interest now. “I could “I do like cheese.” The sense of wonder the confession still eat you, you know,” he said thoughtfully. Although brought was startling. After years of playing the part of it was clear from the distaste in his tone, he had no the yowling, brawling street cat, Skilley’s mask had been stomach for the words or the mouse. stripped away by this insignificant rodent, baring his true

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self. He had to admit, he had never been entirely cattish. out as if every syllable were made of the finest cheese. “Actually, I love cheese,” he amended. Skilley shook his rattled head. “How did you learn “Who wouldn’t?” piped Pip. such strange words?” “Don’t you think it’s…odd?” “That’s a tale for another day,” said the little mouse. “You are speaking to a mouse, you know,” said Pip Then he smiled broadly, revealing a prodigious overbite, dryly. “What I can’t imagine is not loving cheese.” He extraordinary even for a mouse. rested his paws on his belly and smiled at Skilley. “As to This time, Skilley’s whiskers twitched with merriment. a cat loving cheese? Well, we all have secrets.” “Now,” Pip continued, “no more cat-and-mouse games. The cat ﬂashed him a strange look. “You?” I know why you’ve come to Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese. But “We’re not yet good enough friends for that conﬁdence.” you’ll never get a nibble of its faultless cheese without “Friends?” Skilley frowned. our help.” “Certainly. If a person of honorable sensibilities has your “Your help?” Skilley snorted. darkest secret in his keeping—and asks nothing in return— “You’re a street cat. You don’t know about locks and you might reasonably conclude he is…er, not a foe.” keys,” Pip said. “Honorable sens—?” began Skilley. Locks and keys? Pip was wrong. Skilley knew all about “Oh, indeed. Where secrets are concerned, I am a those hellish devices, but what they had to do with veritable sepulcher.” cheese, he couldn’t imagine. “I don’t understand.” “Sepul—?” “The cheese is made by Croomes and her sister at “Place of perpetual internment,” explained Pip. a small dairy in Finsbury Park. But it’s kept here, in The cat stared back at him blankly. Pip added helpfully, the cellar just beneath us. Being the oldest part of the inn, “Grave. Tomb.” it’s also the coldest. That keeps the cheese delectably fresh.” “Then why not just say TOMB?” Skilley’s voice rose in “What are we waiting for, then?” Skilley made a move exasperation. toward the stairs. Just as Pip had guessed, he’d had only “But why say tomb”—Pip went limp and rolled his a few moldy rinds of cheese since Christmas, surviving eyes—“when you can say seh-pool-kur?” He drew the word mostly on back-alley scraps.

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“The Cheshire is kept behind a great locked door. Pip gave Skilley a hard look. “And release us unharmed, Croomes the cook keeps the key. Not that a key would be naturally?” of any use to us.” “Are you still suggesting that I might eat you? Ugh. “Well, then, how do we get in?” Skilley’s voice had I am strictly a cheese cat.” taken on an impatient edge. “Ho! Cat! Where’ve you got to?” The landlord’s voice “We mice have a secret route through stone and rumbled down the stairs. mortar—too narrow for you, I’m afraid. As for the door? “Now will you run?” Skilley begged. It opens only when Croomes does the opening.” “Of course.” Pip grinned, then leapt onto Skilley’s “I hate doors,” muttered Skilley. head, scampered down his back, and skittered across “Interesting,” said Pip. “Why doors?” the floor. Just before he disappeared through a crack in “That is also a tale for another day.” the wall, he called out the location for a tryst: “Cellar. “Fair enough.” Pip laughed. “By the way, cat, you Midnight. We’ll bring the cheese.” never did tell me your name.” “Where?” asked Skilley. “I’m Skilley.” “The cellar! Just follow your nose!” Then Pip vanished. “An honor to meet you, Skilley. Henry will have When the landlord spied Skilley licking his lips in a mouser. All the better for us if it is a cat that prefers anticipation of the finest cheese in England, he said, “Tasty cheese. Might I suggest a bargain then? One that would was he? Well, my fine mouser, there’s plenty more where benefit us all?” that one came from.” At the word bargain Skilley’s eyes flashed with inspiration. “Do you mean an exchange of…er…services?” “Just so. If you will keep us safe, we will reward you each night with the finest cheese in the realm.” Pip unleashed one of his matchless smiles. “I’d have to catch some of you,” Skilley warned, all business now.

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C . D i c k e n s

CHAPTER EIGHT thimblejigger balamy milch whiddler toff They will never be persuaded to trust a cat, thought Pip. Not after snilch what happened to Maldwyn. hookem-snivey The mouse citizenry of Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese was assembling in the musty attic. Pip was perched atop a I culled these fantastical words this morning as I stood on the wooden dressmaker’s form in a corner of the room, survey- corner near the Café Royal and listened to the street sellers and ing the scene before him. Only a quarter of an hour had patterers. I jotted these down quickly, lest they slip from my passed since he had issued the signal: a flicker of the gaslight. memory. Twice. It was an old code, devised by some long-forgotten fore- Also worth noting: the Cheshire Cheese cat has caught my mouse. One flicker called the mouse council to convene; fancy. He is a handsome blue with a most comical tail. He two signaled every able-bodied mouse to an urgent general appears so very coarse. But the writer in me imagines there is assembly. Three flickers—well, thank Providence, that more to this fellow than scars and swagger. Is he a brute? He extreme measure had never in his memory been called for. The mice had come in response to Pip’s call, scurry- certainly appears as one—then so does Sydney Carton, the ing up drainpipes, climbing dumbwaiter ropes, and hero of my current story. navigating the old familiar paths behind plaster walls. Four sleepless nights, and I have no opening line. Now the attic seemed almost alive, every surface I haven’t jumped in the Thames yet. rippling with movement. Mirrors and chests and lamps Still, it is only Tuesday. and bellows vanished beneath a quivering, undulating blanket of restless mice. Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 30

Thousands of mice. and neighbors, today we have been afforded by the hard hand All crowded into a space ﬁt for a quarter of their of Fate…a gentle blow. A cat has come to The Cheese—” number. Even the two gaslight ﬁxtures held a hundred A high-pitched murmur ran through the crowd. or so of the younger, more acrobatic mice. “Silence, please!” Pip licked his paw… Again Pip held aloft the bit of Cheshire. A slow lulling wiped his nose… of the chatter was followed by a tense stillness. “I say a licked his paw… gentle blow, for it seems that where we should expect In Pip’s lifetime there had been but one other such enmity, we have found amity; where we might rightly gathering. It, too, had been over the issue of an uninvited expect a threat, we have found goodwill. This is no ordi- guest. Pip brushed those thoughts aside. For better or nary cat. This cat has no taste for mice. He eats...” Pip worse, that matter was settled. He had a more pressing paused for effect. “He eats CHEESE.” problem at present. It is not, sadly, within the God-given talents of this Pip noted the last of the stragglers as they slipped in writer to describe the scene that unfolded. Imagine, if you through a hole in the ceiling. will, a House of Commons composed of ten thousand It was time to call the meeting to order. He diminutive members of parliament—all squeaking and extended his front paw. In his palm he held thrashing their tails in alarm, disbelief, and dissent. a morsel of cheese as radiant as a nugget of Spanish gold. In a slow, sweeping gesture he presented it to the room of wiggling, wriggling mice—and within moments he was looking out at nearly ten thousand pair of spellbound eyes. In for a penny, in for a pound, thought Pip. He took as deep a breath as mouse lungs would permit and began: “My esteemed friends

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He could hardly contain his dismay and outrage. Had CHAPTER NINE they forgotten that England’s very survival hung in the balance? If they had only asked him—well, he knew why they hadn’t asked him. He’d have put an immediate stop to any talk of striking a bargain with a…cat. The hidden creature observed the mice with a growing Cat. sense of horror. A cat at Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese? Even the word was distasteful to him. It was a small, Folly. mean word, one that began harshly and ended crossly. Worse than folly. And this creature knew about cats. He winced at the Catastrophe. ache in his shoulder, more memory now than pain. Yet His good eye ﬂitted back and forth, trying to take in never had he felt the consequences of his rash choices the chaos through the narrow chink in the plaster. His more keenly. damaged eye blinked and refused to participate. It was then that he allowed regret to give way to a An abandoned garret, tucked behind another newer stronger, more pressing feeling: an overwhelming sense attic, had been his sanctuary and his prison these nine of duty. Her Majesty the Queen, he was certain, must be weary months. Certainly, his keepers’ attempts at provid- mad with worry at his absence…and all that it implied. ing him with small comforts such as fresh straw and He must reach the Tower. scraps of suet had been welcomed, but Ye Olde Cheshire But how? Cheese remained to his sensibilities (and he had many) as sure a prison as Newgate. Tonight, he grudgingly admitted to himself, the room’s isolation had been to his advantage. It had allowed him to observe and listen with growing horror to the disastrous proposal that was being put to a vote—just on the other side of that plaster wall.

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up ended, CHAPTER TEN to hallways that abruptly ended,

or if not, led Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese! Within its walls Skilley discovered a wondrous warren of d o s w t n a to even more t w i s t i i n g , s r o

twisting, m

s e

t o r c

o i s e m k

e d and narrow passageways sometimes s crooked that led to more w i T a s n I r S th winding d T a i t

n s

g i

b l

a m e u t l d l

t I y

i at n

a i t o

i dining rooms or

r r

s s. , char-rooms or and then dungeonlike cellars. 35 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 36

At the center of it all brooded Croomes, the cook. It took perfect timing to pass through unharmed. On A culinary tyrant, she ruled the nether regions of the the other side, the smells melded into an enticing confu- inn with an iron ladle. sion of the savory and the sweet. And oh, the clanking and Her copper pots and saucepans clanging! To Skilley’s ears they were like bells that ham- bubbled mered out a song to gaiety and…food, food, food! and boiled He slipped behind a great basket of onions where he and steamed could watch the splendid scene before him. It appeared to and frothed have been staged by some great gastronomic genius. with the constant cooking of Cooking ﬁres leapt and crackled, serving girls swept in brews and hearty dishes. And and out with a creak and pop of the swinging door, and through every brick and potboys laden with foaming mugs of ale ducked and timber of Croomes’s domain swerved and scurried about, laughing and bawling out there lingered the sweet orders to one another. smell of history, along with Skilley’s head bobbed in time to the rhythm. It was the musty odor of yester- a symphony of— year’s Yorkshire pudding, “What the bony blazes is that beast doing in me roast lamb, mutton chops, kitchen?” and steak and kidney pie. Skilley had found the kitchen. And what was this? A swinging door? As if ordinary doors weren’t dangerous enough.

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The spell was broken. The kitchen dance resumed. The CHAPTER ELEVEN cook spun about to rescue her sauce. As she did, the iron ring tied to her apron strings came loose and flew across the room. The ring of keys rattled to a stop at Skilley’s feet. Notable among them was a brass key. It was larger The silence was instant and absolute. than the rest, vastly older, and worn to a dull sheen. Even the fires shrank back from the horrific voice that What luck! Skilley suspected he knew which lock that boomed from a mouth—no, a gaping maw––that could key would open. Wouldn’t Pip be surprised? Not that he have swallowed Admiral Lord Nelson’s fleet in a single gulp. cared about impressing a mouse, mind. Skilley would have laughed at the amusing scene of a “Ach! Burnt to a clinker!” boy caught in mid-bustle, his foot raised in the air, but Skilley glanced up. The cook glowered at the spoon of for the monstrous shape that trundled toward that boy. sauce she had just tasted. Croomes advanced on him, her forehead prismatic “Ruint! Throw it out! Start afresh, you blundering with sweat and grease. nancy-mongers!!” Skilley had seen her just once before: a formidable While Croomes was thus distracted, Skilley nosed at figure of a woman, betwixt square and round, who was the key ring. He nudged it up and clasped it between his nearly as wide as she was tall. Her meaty hand pointed a teeth. As stealthy as ever a cat could be, he turned to the wooden spoon at Skilley. But only for an instant. Immedi- door, but then had to skitter back as it swung wide. ately the spoon whipped about and cracked the kitchen At that very instant, a bloodcurdling cry erupted from boy on top of his head. behind him. “ME KEYS!” “Get that flea-infested ankle-scratcher out of here!” There never was such a free-for-all of boys and The boy dropped to the floor, then scrambled out of reach. scullery maids, leaping and hurling themselves out of the “That cat!” growled the woman. “Get it—” cook’s thundering path. She was interrupted by a spewing, spitting pot on the As Croomes approached, a lightning thought jolted stove behind her. “Oh, calamity!” she wailed. “Me fricassee!” Skilley into action. 39 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 40

Rather than cower, he high-stepped boldly to the With a pat on his head that nearly sent him sprawling to center of the room, never taking his eyes off the raging the flagstones, she held up the iron ring. Her sausage finger cook. The unfortunate potboy she had just captured stabbed the air for emphasis as she declared, “Take a lesson tugged on her sleeve and pointed at the cat with one hand in respect from this kitty, the rest of you scallirascals!” while protecting his head with the other. Skilley jutted out his chin and strolled proudly out of The look the woman shot at Skilley would have stopped the kitchen, timing his exit to coincide with a wide swing the Angel of Death in its tracks, yet Skilley resolutely contin- of the door. ued his approach. With all eyes upon him, he placed the key Once on the other side, he nearly collapsed from ring on the toe of her colossal boot. fright. The moment he regained his composure, he firmly As instantly as it had appeared, the red-faced frown was resolved to avoid Croomes as much as possible in future. supplanted by a more frightening look. It would be criminal to call it a smile. And yet a smile it was. There was no other word to describe it: the wide- spread lips, the tea-stained teeth, and the bunched-up cheeks that looked like two overripe pomegranates. “Brought back me keys, have you?” Croomes cooed. Her crooning, sweet as treacle, was even more unsettling than her smile. She bent down to snatch up the keys with one hand. With the other, she gently chucked Skilley under the chin. “What a wonderful puss!” Then she leaned closer and inhaled deeply. With a disquieting gaze into his eyes, she whispered, “You’re an odd one, then.” She sighed, as if in resignation. “Very well, I wager there be enough mice for us both.” 40 41 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 42

of minutes, splinters of seconds—to inform them of CHAPTER TWELVE a mystery carried deep within. Animals carry time in their bones. So it was that Skilley had no need of a pocket watch to assure him that he had arrived early. All day he’d fought a Midnight loomed. craving for cheese that threatened to consume him. But as Skilley slipped past the still busy kitchen and down the minutes passed, the cat began to wonder if he had the dark stairs. As he neared the vaulted cellar, he been taken for a fool— breathed in the peculiar, almost fungal odor of old “Ahem!” squeaked a small voice, demanding Skilley’s bricks, wood, and dirt. At the bottom of the staircase, immediate attention. a soft light drifted through the entryway. He stepped Pip was there at last. into a room of arched ceilings and age-old stones. So “You came!” Skilley’s surprise was evident. this was the oldest part of the inn? Lying about were “Of course, I came. I’m a mouse of my word.” wine casks, tinned meats, and sacks of grain. And Skilley peered past him, scanning the cellar for the beyond them stood a heavy, pockmarked door, crafted bargained cheese. in another age. Could this be where Croomes hoarded From behind his back Pip produced a fragrant yellow her famous cheese? morsel. Holding it in his cupped paws, he presented it to Skilley released a shudder. the cat with great ceremony. Doors. “To seal our bargain,” he explained. He settled in a corner to wait. He was half an hour “Er, uh, yes…,” Skilley dithered. early to his appointment. “You seem disappointed,” said Pip. How did he know it to be half past eleven? It is “Well, no. Not really.” He sniffed at the crumb. “It is a fact that all intelligent animals (except for those poor, Cheshire cheese after all.” distractible humans) have an unerring sense of time. “Of the red variety. Hence its magniﬁcent golden hue. They need no Roman numeral on an enameled clock face, And,” Pip added, his furry chest swelling with pride, “the no shadow on a sundial—no slices of hours, slivers ﬁnest in England.” 43 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 44

“Thank you,” Skilley said. He would have to rethink this whether it would be rude to eat them both now (the cheese arrangement. Surely, they couldn’t expect him to live on— bits, not the mice) or to save a snack for— “No. Thank you.” Pip cleared his throat as he gestured But wait. toward the shadows of the far corner. “Pssssssst. Come now.” A creaky old rodent with notched ears appeared. His The cat and mouse waited. A full twenty seconds whiskers hung like a mossy beard from his chin. A spent they waited. There was no response. Pip glanced apolo- wooden matchstick supported his every arthritic step. He getically back at Skilley. “If you’ll pardon me for just a dropped the third bit of cheese, then nudged it with his moment. They’re in need of a bit of coaxing, I’m afraid.” stick so that it rolled unevenly toward Skilley. With a He vanished into the stygian darkness. sideways tilt to his head, the old mouse gathered up his Skilley strained his ears at the frantic whispers. tail and, displaying great dignity, hobbled back to Pip. “He’s still a C-C-C-CAT!” blurted one voice. Two more mice scampered from the darkness, More murmurs. At last Pip reappeared. followed by three, four, five more, each with an offering “My humble apologies,” he said. He then turned and in his arms. Soon, an unending queue of cheese-bearing addressed the shadows, this time with impatience. “Look mice snaked from the shadows, until a golden mountain sharp now! We have an agreement!” of Cheshire rose before Skilley. Skilley stared into the gloom, trying to make out Even then, the advancing line, now composed mostly of who—or what—was hidden within it. the curious, continued. Few of the mice had ever seen a cat. Then a mouse (much smaller and younger than Pip) None had ever been this close to one and lived, and yet, in edged out of the darkness. In her paws she clutched a bit a matter of moments, Skilley had gained their confidence. of cheese the size of a pea; for her small person, this was But it’s not me, he thought. It’s Pip they trust. a great burden. As she left the meager offering, she paused “Thank you,” he said to Pip, and this time he meant it. and stared up at the cat, an act which sent her nearly “D-d-does it bite?” piped the littlest mouse. toppling over backward. Righting herself, she scuttled in “He chews,” Pip said. “But only cheese.” retreat to hide behind Pip. “And an occasional herring, when the fishmonger’s Two pieces of cheese: enough to content a mouse, but eye wanders,” Skilley added with a wink at the small one, hardly enough to tempt a cat. Ah, well. Skilley wondered who ducked behind Pip again. 44 45 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 46

The oldest mouse hitched himself forward. “We the whiskers, and planted a small kiss on the tip of his nose. appreciate your alliance with us, despite your unfortunate “Too!” Her father, who was by nature a somewhat ancestry. Just keep away from Maldwyn and you’ll be—” nervous mouse, rushed toward her. He was as taken aback “Hush!” cried a chorus of voices. by this display as was the cat. With a stricken look, the old fellow clamped a paw As he tried to pull her away, she lifted her head and over his mouth. chirped, “Oh, Papa, Too likes the cat. He smells like us!” “Who’s Maldwyn?” Skilley asked. “Too?” Skilley turned to Pip for an answer. The codger waggled his walking stick at the cat. “Too,” Pip said with a grin, “is her “Someone it would do well for you to avoid.” name. As in ‘too loud, too curious, too Skilley’s glance slid toward Pip. “Who’s Maldwyn?” he impulsive.’ If one can be too much of insisted. anything, that’s Too.” Pip shook his head. “That information is not part of our agreement.” “But how do I avoid this Maldwyn if—” He was interrupted by a tug on his fur. The brave little girl-mouse, no bigger than a walnut, stepped back and clasped her paws before her. In a singsong voice, she recited a verse: It is in truth a well-known fact, That curiosity killed the cat. Skilley threw back his head and laughed at her impudence. When he regained control, he bent down and touched his nose to hers. “Ah, but satisfaction brought him back!” In response, the tiny mouse gave a squeal. To his horror she ﬂung herself onto his snout, took him ﬁrmly by 46 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 48

The company of mice responded with hoots and good-natured tittering. Too’s embarrassed father shrugged, then swept her up CHAPTER THIRTEEN onto his shoulders. Hugging his neck, she rested her chin between her papa’s ears and smiled up at Skilley. Purest heaven. That’s what it was. Cheese aged to perfection. Cheshire with just the perfect tang, the perfect roundness of flavor, the perfect tussle between smooth and crumbly. Yes, it was unquestionable. This was indeed the finest cheese in London. And Skilley should know. Hadn’t he been born behind the stove of a workhouse kitchen? Hadn’t his first memories been of curds and whey and cheese? And hadn’t he thieved cheeses from every milkman and greengrocer once he’d been tossed onto the streets to—? No. He wouldn’t think of that now. He let each bite linger on his tongue until he could no longer resist taking another. The pile dwindled as his admiration grew. Pip watched in fascination. “Marvelous, isn’t it?” he inquired. “Mmm.” Skilley thought back to a word he’d once heard a fine lady use when staring through a millinery shop window. The object of her devotion was a hat, all feathers and ribbons. 48 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 50

Wanting to show Pip that even a street cat could pick up a fancy word or two, he whispered, “Dee-vine,” and his eyes rolled back in rapture. CHAPTER FOURTEEN “Divine. Now, that’s a fine word,” said Pip. “See, you do know some wonderful words.” Skilley remembered the gentleman who had accompa- That night, Adele the barmaid set out a flowered cushion nied the lady. Now what was it he had called the hat? He had used behind the bar for Skilley. the word with great force. Ah, yes. Henry scoffed at the gesture. “That old tomcat doesn’t “Preee-posterous!” he cried. need such foofery,” he declared. “I quite understand and agree,” said Pip with a laugh. “I says ’e does,” she shot back. “Anythin’ what’ll rid us “Preposterous cheese, indeed.” of them vermin...” She pushed a wisp of hair from her “Have a bite,” Skilley offered. forehead. “Well, all I says is give ’im ’is due.” “No, no. I—well, perhaps just a crumb... Oh, but I must More interested in currying Henry’s favor, Skilley resist. It is, after all, yours.” sniffed at the cushion and curled his lip in disdain. He The moment was historic: a cat and a mouse with a chose instead a particularly drafty corner, wherein he mutual love of cheese. And although the strangeness of defiantly settled himself. the moment wasn’t lost on either Pip or Skilley, and “See,” said Henry, “a right hardy kitty, to be sure.” although each stole curious glances at the other, neither But once the inn had closed for the night, the last cus- remarked on it. tomer had been ushered out the door, and the lights That fact alone was worthy of note. dimmed to nothing; once Adele had patted the cat good night and the landlord had shuffled upstairs to his own bed, Skilley left the cheerless corner and curled up on the cushion behind the bar. He sighed as he nestled into its floral comfort. A safe place, a full belly, and a warm bed.

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His mind relaxed with the overwhelming sense of ease. were those of mice and dust and something he didn’t He was well on his way to a sweeter slumber than he had recognize—something not human, not cat, not mouse. ever known when a clatter echoed through the darkness. Something decaying… There followed a distant scratching and scraping noise. His tail twitched with nerves. The human shape in the He struggled to open his eyes. “Don’t those mice ever corner remained still. Had Skilley recognized it as a sleep?” he mumbled to himself. woman’s dress form, he would have been mightily Then he rolled onto his back and sighed again, only to embarrassed at his suspicions. be disturbed once more, this time by a thump and a bump. A sharp bang from behind the nearest wall almost And a faraway rattle. Noises that seemed a touch too large separated Skilley from his hide. He was surprised by his own for his new-found allies. Noises that came from far alacrity, as, in a flash, he tore back down the several flights above—from the very rooftop. Rats? he surmised. Then a of stairs. Within moments, he found himself beneath the strange, inhuman cry set the very tips of Skilley’s ears to floral cushion. And there he remained for some hours, com- tingling. He was on his feet and halfway up the stairs to forted only by the steady ka-thump ka-thump of his heart. investigate before his common sense took hold. Don’t be a fool, he told himself. Go back to bed. Tomorrow you— Another hideous cry struck his eardrums. And a crash. Sleep did, at last, come to Skilley. He slept well past He raced up the stairs, unwilling to be surprised later sunrise, not stirring even when the first faint rustlings in his bed by whatever dread thing might haunt those from the rooms above announced that the humans were upper regions of the inn. on the move. At the top of the attic steps he stopped, jerked to a halt by the silhouette of a human figure in the corner gloom. He slunk behind a hatbox, wishing now he had stayed in bed. He sniffed at the air, but the only odors he detected

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He awoke only for a moment when Henry trudged into the chop room, still in his nightshirt and half-open dressing gown—a disturbing sight that caused Skilley to CHAPTER FIFTEEN bury his head deeper beneath the cushion. From there he could just hear the landlord’s muttered words, “Curséd ghost! Why my tavern? Why not The Old Bell? Couldn’t “What’s all the blunderbuss?” sleep a wink all night. How about you, cat? Sleeping now, The thundering voice of Croomes as she approached are you? Well, rest up. Good day for mousing.” the dining room momentarily drowned out Adele’s shrill Skilley did not budge. He even ignored the breakfast cries. In response to the wailing, the cook had set aside a rasher of bacon that Adele placed bowl of rising bread dough, ready for kneading. She was before him. He slept, though not in a charitable mood. fitfully, through the morning She might have trampled Skilley as she charged into deliveries. the room—had he not deftly shot past her to find refuge It was the volley of under one of the chairs. bone-rattling screams Croomes stopped cold when she saw the barmaid. that finally roused Adele’s wild hair and ashen face looked the very portrait him to the day. of terror. “Th-th-there! It c-c-come at me! It…it…it was ’orrible.” Adele spoke the words in telegraphic hiccups as she pointed toward the cone of sugar standing on the sideboard. Seeing her tremble, knees-to-chin on the tavern counter, one would never have guessed this was the same girl who had tongue-lashed the coal man that very morning for trying to cheat her out of a half-sack of coal.

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The indignant man had stormed off—but not before sounding dreadfully loud to his own ears. correcting the shortage and leaving Adele with a handful There’s no way out of this one, Pip, old fellow. of coins and a coy smile on her face. But that had been Adele had been a surprise, but a manageable one. In hours earlier. Pip’s mind, she was among those harmless souls who “Wicked mouses,” the girl whimpered from her could be depended on to deliver splendid shrieks at the precarious perch. She drew her feet up beneath her. first glimpse of a mouse: her punctuated screams, spaced “Why me? Why don’t no one else see ’em? I kin ’ardly cut precisely two seconds apart, were as reliable as the trains into a slab of cheese without settin’ me eyes on one.” at Paddington Station. Despite this, Pip didn’t mind Adele. It was true. Adele seemed to have an uncommon gift She held no true threat. And like most girls, she reminded for uncovering mice: reach into a sack of flour, sweep him of Nell. behind a dustbin, overturn a teacup, and there one would Poor Nell. be, staring back at her with shiny black eyes. Pip was brought back from his reverie by the snorting (If only she’d known how popular a game Tormenting and snuffling of Croomes. This was followed by the Adele had become with the inn’s younger mice.) groaning of the floorboards as she drew cautiously nearer She shivered again as Croomes rolled her eyes and with each step. shoved past her. The cook headed for the sideboard, lead- Had Adele given him away? Had she pointed out the ing with her cleaver. sugar cone? “I’m here, ain’t I?” she bellowed. “Stop your miserable Steady, Pip. caterwauling!” He could smell her now. Black pudding. The licorice scent of fennel seeds. Sweat. A frantic Pip stood on his hind legs and pressed his furry Her shadow fell across the surface of the board, a hand belly against the hard, sandy surface of the sugar cone. He took hold of the top of the sugar cone, and Pip was lifted negotiated a firm hold on the sheltered side, his breath above Croomes’s head as she searched all about.

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“What is it I’m looking for, girl?” “They’s all the same, ain’t they? Filthy vermin!” “I told ya. A rat!” Adele spat the word. “They’re not the same, not by halves! A mouse is noth- “And why are you calling me from me kitchen when ing like a rat.” you should be calling for the cat?” As the two distracted women argued, Skilley snatched At that crucial moment, Skilley appeared up Pip in his mouth. on the scene. Quick-thinking as ever, he let “Afraid of a little mouse,” Croomes muttered in dis- out a yowl, then leapt at Croomes’s gust, wagging her enormous head as she turned to leave. hand, knocking the sugar cone— “Best get used to ’em if you’re working at The Cheese.” and the mouse still clinging to Adele descended awkwardly from the countertop and it—to the ground. ﬁshed about for her lost shoe. To the cook’s retreating “Blast and blather- wardrobe of a back she shot, “Shows what she knows.” bait!” Croomes cried Her next comment was directed at Skilley. “What as she inspected the we’re in need of is reinforcements. Two mouse catchers is small drops of blood bound to be better than one, eh?” beading up around Skilley would have gulped but for the contents of his her knuckles. Then mouth. she spied Pip in a Croomes, who had paused in the doorway to pin up motionless gray heap a loose strand of graying hair, heard every word and next to the baseboard, felt a lurch of panic. One cat had not greatly worried her, the sugar cone shattered all but two? about him. Croomes’s response was unexpected. She laughed. “A mouse? You had me forsake me loaves for a mouse? I thought you said you saw a rat?” 59 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 60

C . D i c k e n s

CHAPTER SIXTEEN A most curious thing.

Our Cheshire Cheese cat is a mouser of formidable Skilley didn’t stop until he reached the top landing, the abilities. Not an hour passes but he parades by with a new one that led to the garret in the older part of the attic. victim in his jaws. Or does he? Either I have lost the keen edge Gently, he loosened his jaw and deposited Pip atop a stack of old newspapers. to my powers of observation, or it is ever the same fellow “This is going to cost extra, you know,” Skilley said. being caught over and over again: a small gray mouse with A prone Pip exhaled a long breath that made his the most singular front teeth. whiskers rise and fall. Triumphantly, he held up the nip Thus, either I am gone mad, or this cat is catching and of sugar he’d managed to hold onto during the encounter releasing the same mouse. with Croomes. But why? Now, there’s a story that begs writing! Still in one piece. Excellent. As to my own worries, I still have no opening lines for “I rescued you from that madwoman so you could my own tale of revolution and redemption. have a nip of sugar? I thought you only ate cheese—” Aha! The blue has just sprinted past the chop room with Skilley stopped cold. It couldn’t be. Or could it? Within another mouse in his jaws. This little intrigue has me quite moments he was laughing so earnestly that he had to lean distracted— against the pile of papers in order to steady himself. “I believe I’ve stumbled on your secret, Pip.” The mouse sat up, alert. Skilley directed a knowing look at the nip of sugar in his companion’s paw. “Come to think of it, I’ve yet to see you eat cheese.” Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 62

“What are you getting at?” What followed was even more baffling to Skilley. The “I don’t eat mice, and you don’t eat cheese!” little rodent pressed his nose to the paper and began to Once again hilarity got the better of him and Skilley travel back and forth down the page in a most methodi- collapsed against the carelessly piled newsprint. cal way, never once lifting his eyes from the black mark- This time the tower toppled, taking Pip with it. ings. When at last he stopped, all that was left of the As the papers washed across the floor in a tidal wave morsel of sugar was a silty trail along the paper; in his of London news and advertisements, Pip nimbly rode a distress, Pip had crushed it entirely. So shaken did he front page as far as the opposite wall before the impact appear that Skilley was fearful for his well-being. sent him sprawling. “Pip?” he whispered. Skilley slumped to the floorboards, overcome with The mouse turned to him, as though in a trance. laughter. “Maldwyn. He was telling the truth.” Without further Pip was not nearly so amused. Scrambling to his feet, explanation, Pip darted into the nearest mouse hole. he responded to the accusation. “I’ll have you know “Got away again, did he?” It was the pipe-organ voice I adore cheese! The sugar is for Mald—” that had introduced Skilley into the inn. Mr. Dickens, Their eyes met and locked. For one long, uneasy wasn’t it? moment neither looked away…nor spoke. Skilley sighed, Skilley shot the man a look of singular indifference. then padded over to Pip. Dickens leaned against the stairway banister, crossed his “Whatever scheme you have going, all this secrecy and arms, and met the cat’s glance with a questioning gaze hugger-mugger is wearing a little thin, my friend. Is there of his own. Skilley intensified his glare. The writer tried to a limit to how many times I must save your life before match it, but staring down a cat is a difficult sport. you’ll come to trust me?” “Very well,” chuckled Dickens, backing away. “But He stopped when he saw the stricken look on Pip’s I will say, that mouse of yours seems to have more lives face. “What’s wrong?” than you, my good cat.” Pip was no longer looking at Skilley. He was staring down at the inky smudges on the paper beneath him.

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Skilley watched Dickens retreat down the stairs and Maldwyn paced restlessly, his tottering steps as jerky as a listened as the man’s footfalls grew fainter and fainter. marionette’s. His first instincts had been on the mark; this human The room was wrecked. wanted watching. “You look, er, unwell,” Pip said tactfully, scratching But now there lay a more tantalizing task at hand. at an ear. What had Pip discovered in those fish wrappings to Indeed, in the dim light, Maldwyn appeared to be mul- alarm him so? Skilley padded ’round the newspapers and tipally afflicted with palsy, gout, dropsy, and possibly— tried to make sense of what he saw. And what did the judging by the hacks and wheezes—a touch of ague. shadowy Maldwyn have to do with any of it? “If there is anything we can do to make you more Skilley studied the newspapers that had spilled across comfortable, sir…,” Pip began. He silently cursed himself for the floor. No matter how many times he walked around having destroyed that hard-won bit of sugar; even Maldwyn them, they remained what they had always been: fish sweetened considerably after consuming a lump or two. wrappings. So why had Pip— “That won’t be necessary. You have all done quite Thunk! Thud! Skattle! Crash! enough.” The words were pleasant, the tone glacial. Then silence. Pip could stand it no longer. “You were telling the Skilley slowly raised his eyes toward the ceiling. truth, sir! I see that now!” Those two brief lines, explosively uttered, left him breathless. He looked at Maldwyn in abject misery. Maldwyn turned his best eye toward the mouse and gave what passed for a shrug, as though this obvious truth was of little matter now. Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 66

He resumed his pacing; his bobbing shadow was It was Old Bodkin’s turn made all the more eerie by the single guttering candle at the night watch when with its sooty tendrils of smoke. Maldwyn saw his chance. “Dear, dear,” Pip mumbled. This was going badly. Purposefully choosing his He licked his paw… longest, dullest story, he flicked his ear… droned on until the elderly licked his paw. mouse—struggling to stay Why had he been so unwilling to believe Maldwyn’s awake—tucked his paws under his beard for warmth and claims? fell into a deep sleep. When Nell had first brought Maldwyn to the garret Bodkin was still snoring when Maldwyn slipped out and her mouse friends, no one had expected him to to the landing, and nearly awakened the household with live out the day. The rare times he’d spoken, his claims his cry:“I demand to see Her Majesty!” had been so ridiculous they’d believed him to be halluci- Thanks be, the landlord was a determined sleeper. Nell nating, or senile, or worse yet—barking mad. reached Maldwyn first. With a combination of flattery Despite their misgivings, the mice tended to him for and gentle firmness, she convinced him to return to his Nell’s sake. And then, he’d improved. Quite miraculously, hiding place before he roused every soul in the place. and, some thought, in poor taste. Still, Nell wouldn’t hear of turning him out. The more he recovered, the more outrageous his And the mouse council had given in, although it was stories became. They were, of course, great fun for the decided, quite prudently, to confine Nell’s “guest” to his younger mice. The little ones crowded around his quarters—much to Maldwyn’s dismay. sickbed, a dozen at a time, to hear just one more, until Squaraaaank. their mothers appeared, tsk-tsking and nudging them off The loud squeak of a floorboard brought Pip back to the to their nests. Soon, however, his insistence on the truth present. It would be hard to say who was more startled, he of the tales grew dangerous. or Maldwyn, as they both turned to stare at the intruder.

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“Skilley?” said Pip. The cat stared back with CHAPTER NINETEEN an equal measure of shock. As he looked from Pip to his companion, Skilley stammered, “M-M-Maldwyn is…a crow?” “So you’re the ghost in the garret!” Pip shook his head furi- Skilley’s remark was not well received. ously at the cat, but Skilley And when the cry came from deep within the raven’s failed to appreciate the enor- throat—a chilling sound somewhere between a squawk mity of his blunder. and a screech—the fur along Skilley’s back rose to attention. Maldwyn took a step toward “Calm yourself, sir!” Pip rushed to Maldwyn’s side. Skilley. Drawing up to his full “He’s a cat!” Maldwyn snapped at Pip, as if this fact height, which was impressive, he might have gone unnoticed by the young mouse. spoke with profound dignity: “I am no “He is a cat,” Pip consented, his voice calm despite the crow, sir. Neither am I rook, nor crackling tension in the room. “But, upon my word, he is magpie, nor jackdaw, nor grackle, a most unusual cat. He does not eat mice—Skilley prefers nor blackbird.” cheese. You must agree, that quality alone makes him “He’s a raven,” Pip hissed at Skilley. most uncatlike. No doubt you already know this, having Maldwyn silenced the mouse with a horriﬁc caw. observed our meeting through your peephole…” Then he pinned Skilley with a wintry stare and declared Pip paused to lick his paw… himself with an elegance that removed any doubt of his to stroke his chin… lineage. “The cat.” The raven recalled Pip to the issue at hand. “I am of the House of Battenberg: a Raven of the “The cat,” interrupted Skilley, “can speak for himself.” Tower of London, property of Queen Victoria of England. Pip released a moan. As I stand or fall, so does the Empire!”

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Skilley ignored him and directed his comments to Maldwyn. “Admittedly, I know little of Tower ravens, but CHAPTER TWENTY aren’t they generally found in the Tower? I would dearly love to hear how one came to be hidden here, in the attic of the Cheshire Cheese.” “Tell him, Maldwyn,” Pip encouraged. “He’ll help us. Maldwyn had told the tale before, most often to young I know he will. You will, won’t you, Skilley?” Pip’s smile ravens in need of their history lessons. He had never held nothing back. expected to be called upon to tell it to a cat. His eye fell ﬁrst “That depends. The only thing I enjoy better than on Pip, then washed over Skilley in a perfunctory fashion. a good cheese is a good story,” said Skilley, settling down With a warning clack of his beak and a clearing of his before the raven. throat, he began his story: It was up to Maldwyn to take up the challenge. Or not. There have always been ravens on the White Hill—

“The White Hill?” Skilley asked. “The Tower of London sits on the White Hill. No interruptions!” Skilley grunted and Maldwyn began anew.

There have always been ravens on the White Hill. Before our beloved Queen Victoria. Before the madness of King George. Before the golden age of Queen Elizabeth. We were there.

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Our destiny became fixed in the days of the giant king, Maldwyn paused and let out a hoarse laugh. “Merry Bran the Blessed. The king was killed in battle defending Monarch? Bah! Brainless buffoon, I would say. Even Bran’s Britain, and upon his death Bran’s own men cut off his head. decayed skull were not so empty as that. But his wasn’t the only such mind in the court.” The raven’s jet black “Spare me the moans of disgust,” the raven squawked at eye flitted from Skilley to Pip; certain of their attention, Skilley. “Merciful heavens! I had no idea cats could be so he continued. squeamish. As I said, they cut off his head. Now, may I continue my history?” Alas, King Charles had more love for the distant stars Pip and Skilley glanced at each other before nodding than he had for day-to-day matters in his own court. It at the raven. was he who established a Royal Observatory in the White “Where was I then...?” Maldwyn fluttered one wing, Tower. All went well until his astronomer—an even greater then settled again on his perch. “Oh yes. The head.” idiot, by the name of John Flamsteed—objected to what he called the “infestation” of ravens. It was believed, in those times, that a man’s head housed his soul and would cry out in warning if enemies neared. Enraged, the raven turned to his listeners. “Imagine, will King Bran’s men buried his skull on the White Hill—a you? The audacity to call our presence an infestation! Yes, place, remember, where ravens had always dwelled—and they well…” Maldwyn made a visible effort to calm himself made certain it was facing France to guard against invasion. and returned to his tale. There Bran has remained, forever watchful. And there we ravens have remained. Living tombstones, Charles responded to his astronomer’s whimpering we guard the great king. He guards England. For centuries it complaints by ordering every last bird butchered. was understood that if we were left to our duty, our land would be safe from intruders. Pip couldn’t hold back a squeaky gasp, and Skilley’s ears Then came Charles II, the Merry Monarch. flattened against his skull. “As I live and breathe,” said the raven. “I swear it to be true. But do not worry your heads yet.” 72 73 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 74

Before the order could be carried out, a snowy-haired soothsayer appeared unbidden to the king. His name is lost to history, but not his pluck. He predicted the direst of CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE consequences for the kingdom, and merry old Charles himself, if a single raven were harmed.

This time the raven interrupted his own story. Apparently, For a long while, Maldwyn seemed lost in thought. the wicked tidbit was too delicious to be resisted. “Five?” asked Skilley, finally daring to break the “It is said that the old fortune-teller so frightened dear silence. “What happened to the—” Charles that the king soiled his knickers—a great embar- Pip gave a little cough and rolled his eyes as he nodded rassment to most humans, I understand.” He chuckled to toward the raven. himself. “An undignified tale, perhaps, yet it somehow Maldwyn dropped his head and spoke as if from comforts me to believe it.” He picked up the thread of the a dream. “I remember the moment clearly. It was a most story again, trying to regain his composure. unusual day for London. The clouds, thin and gauzy, stretched overhead like bits of cheesecloth; the sky was a In any event, the king swore an oath that there would tantalizing blue. I now believe I was bewitched by the always be ravens in the White Tower—never fewer than dazzling beauty of that sky. six—so long as he ruled England. “Then there was the business of my wings. Because of From that day, each monarch has accepted our presence my age and faithful service, the Ravenmaster had chosen to with everything from indulgence to indifference to grudging let my clipped wings regrow. respect. “But I betrayed him. Such is the lure of spring, even And England has been, for the most part, spared great harm. on the old. That is until I, on that ill-fated evening, made a most unwise “I am the eldest of all the ravens, yet I was a mere fledg- decision. There were six ravens in the Tower until that day. ling when I last knew the joy of flight. I thought only to Now there are only five. soar across the river and back. But once I caught the draft of warm air rising from the Thames, all my reason fled. 74 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 76

“Neither of you has ever ﬂown. You have never seen Unable to hold his tongue, Skilley broke in again. the world through a bird’s eye. Soaring, suspended by “Undone?” invisible forces, I had nearly forgotten the sensation “As I banked toward the Tower, a heavy gust of wind myself. For some time I remained lost in a headiness tossed me into a tailspin. In no short time I came to I cannot explain—untethered, unbound, but in the end, ground, landing hard upon the cobblestones of a dimly undone.” lighted alleyway. When I regained my wits, I saw the many luminous pairs of eyes, blinking, watching me from the dark corners.” Maldwyn studied Skilley warily for a moment, then returned to his story. “Cats—most cats, I will say—have no common decency. The cowards lurked in the shadows until they were certain of my injuries. “As they circled, two of the bolder ones came near enough to sniff about. Then one ginger-striped brute crouched and lunged. Already mangled from the fall, I had a time of it defending myself. Ordinarily a cat is no match for a raven. A raven will emerge the victor every time. But six cats? Seven? And me with a broken wing?” “A ginger-colored cat, you say?” repeated Skilley, bris- tling with apprehension. He knew of only one such cat on Fleet Street.

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“A ginger of enormous proportions. I remember him well—and I made certain he would never forget me.” Maldwyn clacked his beak a time or two, then his voice CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO grew gentle. “The human girl you call Nell determined the outcome that day. She emerged from the inn like an Skilley tried to make a good show of mousing as he avenging angel—like Britannia herself—armed with a lid prowled the inn the next day. The smell of mice was and a ladle. These she beat together to create such a noise everywhere, but fortunately, not a whisker in sight. that my attackers scattered into the gloom. Had she not As Skilley stalked, the raven’s tale intruded on his appeared, I would not be here to tell you this tale.” thoughts. The more he considered the situation, the more Abruptly the raven turned to Pip. “So tell me,” he churlish he became. This Maldwyn had not been part demanded. “Since you now claim to believe my story, of the bargain. How the devil were a cat and a mouse what plan have you devised to restore me to smuggle a raven out of the inn—let alone stroll him to the Tower?” past St. Paul’s Cathedral and through the ﬁsh market at Billingsgate—and into the Tower of London? Impossible. Ridiculous to even consider it. Deep into these ruminations, Skilley settled himself on a comfortable windowsill with a view of the street. Mr. Dickens was at his usual station at a nearby table. Was it his imagination, or was the man watching him? Skilley’d done his best to ignore the fellow all morning. Despite this determined apathy, it seemed to the cat that whenever he turned his head in that direction, the man would avert his eyes, quickly look down, and begin scratching at the page before him. Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 80

From his sill, Skilley could see that every passionate Her Majesty suspected the French. motion of Dickens’s hand thrust spidery lines of black ink France had recalled their ambassador; diplomatic across the paper. waters between the two countries were asimmer with What was the man doing? renewed (and historic) accusations and distrust. There had And then, without warning, Dickens rose from his even been whispers of war. seat and ambled casually across the floor to join Skilley at How, Skilley wondered, had Pip learned all this? the window. “How are you getting on then, Cat? Have Egad. you had your fill of mice today?” Skilley snapped to attention when he spotted the little The questions seemed congenial. An affectionate hand mouse Too scampering along a baseboard. With one leap scratched around his ears and chin in such an expert fash- he had her safely in his jaws. ion that Skilley relaxed quite involuntarily. “Good kitty,” Henry said. “Keep those vermin at bay.” “And how fares your good friend, the mouse with the He bent over and ruffled the fur on Skilley’s back, as Mr. exceptional teeth?” This last remark was so softly spoken, Dickens had done earlier. The cat was unaccustomed to Skilley was not certain he had heard it correctly. such casual affections; he quite liked them. Oh, my, he thought, this human’s instincts are those of a cat. The landlord straightened. “Where’s Adele gone, As Dickens returned to his table, he called for a pot of then?” he asked, looking around peevishly. strong tea. Quickly, Skilley dropped Too alongside a knothole in Skilley refused to look in his direction. Instead he the baseboard. She stamped her tiny foot and said in an allowed his mind to revisit the startling information Pip indignant voice, “I wish you’d give some notice before had provided at the conclusion of Maldwyn’s story. you eat Too!” It seemed that Queen Victoria’s wrath at the apparent In response, Skilley shoved her through the knothole kidnapping of her oldest raven was now news throughout and began grooming himself. No one seemed to have London. Secrecy had given way to urgency. According to taken note of the exchange. He continued to lick his teeth Pip, the human public had been informed of the threat and and jaws as if after a pleasant little appetizer. Her Majesty’s men were scouring London for the kidnapped A barmaid shrugged in answer to Henry’s inquiry raven. The five remaining ravens were under heavy guard. about Adele and said, “She’s off on some errand, I ’spect. 80 81 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 82

Perhaps she’s having another go at the coal man.” Skilley knew Pinch hated unfinished business. Any hint of Henry chuckled at that. “At least she keeps my purse this raven in the inn would arouse the murderous cat’s in her interest.” worst instincts. It was then the front door flew open and the afore- Pinch shot Skilley a glance of pure contempt. He then mentioned Adele burst in, followed by a gust of frigid sprang from Adele’s grasp and alit on the floor with an easy January wind. grace, muscles rippling beneath the coat of ginger stripes. Deftly, she kicked the door closed behind her. Then I must warn Pip, Skilley thought. she opened her shawl. Nestled uneasily in the crook of He turned his back on Pinch as if this were an every- her arm was a most disagreeable-looking cat. day encounter and stalked toward the stairs. His languid “Only guess what I found slinkin’ ’bout the alleyway? tail with its hooked end revealed no hint of his true Bit o’ luck, innit?” Adele chirped. Cradling the cat in her distress. Only the twitch of his right front paw as he raised arms, she cooed, “This ’ere’s Oliver. I christened ’im in it to the first step could have betrayed him, if Pinch were honor of our Mr. Dickens.” She held the cat up for all to the kind of cat who noticed such things. admire. But Pinch was not troubled by such subtleties. He Skilley could only stare in alarm. lived for three things: to chase, to catch…and to devour. The alarm turned to dread as his eyes met those of that At Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese he had found a perfect hunt- pitiless malcontent, Pinch. ing ground—unless Skilley acted swiftly.

Pinch—Oliver? Well, this was an unwelcome twist.

Skilley’s mind rang with a series of rapid-ﬁre thoughts:

How will I keep up with the mouse-catching farce, …protect the mice from this bloodthirsty cat, …and keep Pinch in the dark as to the presence of the raven? 82 83 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 84

however, face a danger beyond your wildest terrors.” CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR “I assure you that we can handle this...this cat.” Pip stopped his pacing and waved a paw, as if to clear the air of flatulence. “No.” Skilley’s voice was grim. “Not this cat.” “You don’t understand,” Skilley said. “You must warn Pip stiffened. His nose twitched. And then he dashed your friends without delay. This cat is a killer.” to the nearest crack in the wall and disappeared. “I believe you,” Pip answered. Skilley spun about. “Hello, Pinch,” he said lightly. “Then call them all together!” hissed Skilley. “Who were you talkin’ to up here?” Pinch craned his “To employ the signal again so soon might draw neck to peer around Skilley. attention from the humans.” Pip was pacing the boards, “Talking? Don’t be ridiculous. I was ciphering.” paws clasped behind his back. Ten steps and a turn, ten “Ciphering?” steps and a turn… “Trying to figure out how many mice there are to “There’s no time to waste,” pressed Skilley. share between the two of us.” “Yes, yes. I understand. But we’ve outwitted cats “Ha! You thought I came here with a mind to share?” before, you know. We have a greater challenge before us.” “Of course not,” countered Skilley with silky irony. “Greater—?” “You came to single-handedly trap over ten thousand “Maldwyn. We must find a way to get him back. It is mice, no? I think, my friend, that you’re taking your own a conundrum, I grant you.” reputation too seriously.” “A what?” “You doubt my lust for mice?” Pinch rasped. “Mmm? Oh, yes. A thousand pardons. A conundrum “No more than my own,” said Skilley, glancing away. is an unsolvable puzzle. But, no fear, I’ll solve this one. Pinch snorted. “Hah! Well, skill is another thing And then we’ll return Maldwyn to his rightful place in altogether! Who was it dispatched every last mouse at the Tower or—” the Drury Lane Theatre?” “Forget the blasted Tower for a moment! Maldwyn is “They were pups, Pinch. Hardly difficult hunting.” safe in the garret, out of view and out of reach. You mice, “And tender eatin’ they were.” He licked his jowls. 85 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 86

Skilley searched “Easy enough. This place is about for some way to nothing but mice and warm redirect the conversation. hearths. But let me warn you, the “And…and what do you rodents here are sly. You may go think of our landlord?” days without a glimpse of so “That bacon-faced much as a whisker. And your aledraper? A dumb oaf nose’ll be of no use. Their scent if ever there were one.” is everywhere.” As a devilish “Well, that oaf will afterthought Skilley added, give us both the boot if “I’ve had my best luck in we don’t work together. the kitchen.” Between us—” Pinch nodded. “Between us?” The “I’ll start there, venom in Pinch’s voice then.”With that, poisoned the very air. the prickly tomcat “Pinch, even you bounded away. can’t hunt down ten Skilley stared thousand mice alone.” after him as he The other cat ﬁnally vanished down sat. He nodded, though the stairwell. his bottle-green eye still “I see what ﬂashed a threat. “Do as you you mean,”came will, then. You’ve weaseled a whisper from your way into my territory, the chink in the now mind that you keep your wall. stink away from me.” 86 87 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 88

Scaling a ladder was a harder task for a cat. Suffice it to say, he reached the top feeling spent and edgy. Digging CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE his claws firmly into the soft, rotting wood of the window frame, he heaved himself after the mouse… …and onto the rooftop of Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese. “Where are we going?” It was nightfall. “A place where that pernicious friend of yours won’t And it was glorious. think to look for us,” Pip called back. “Welcome to my sanctuary. That is…my safe place.” “Pinch is no friend! I know of his taste for violence. Why, Skilley stared out at the city and was dazzled. The I’ve seen him rip the bowels—” Skilley regretted the sparkling lights of London were as bewitching a sight as thoughtless words at once. “I don’t want you thinking I’m ever he had witnessed. This, he thought—quite unexpect- the same as Pinch. I–I crossed him when I could.” edly—was much like what Maldwyn had described: a Pip nodded. “I believe you did. He’s an old nemesis, then?” view of the world through the eye of a bird. When his “Nem—really, Pip, you must stop using these words!” own eyes beheld the glistening silver ribbon the full “Enemy.” The mouse grinned. moon had painted on the slow-flowing Thames, the “Then, why not just say enemy? We must get off this enchantment was complete. landing, or we’ll be sure to be found by my neme…neme— “How’d you find this place?” he whispered to Pip, by Pinch.” never taking his eyes from the view. “Very well, and when we are safe, I’ll tell you a story “Nell, of course. She brought me here when we or two—in plain words.” needed to be alone. I do miss her so.” Pip dropped to his four paws and scuttled up to the next “Nell?” He’d heard Maldwyn mention the name. landing, where the attic lay. As soon as Skilley caught up to “The innkeeper’s daughter. She saved my life the day him, the mouse was off again, up to the garret landing and my family was cruelly massacred by a cleaver—” Pip past Maldwyn’s closed door. Before them was an iron lad- licked his paw—caught himself—then firmly tucked the der, bolted to the wall. It led to a casement window. paw under his arm. “In any event, it was Nell who taught Pip was up and out in a blink. me to read.” 89 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 90

“To what?” Skilley asked, although he catalogued the “Of course. I’m getting ahead of the story. Nell would bit about the cleaver in the back of his head. Cleavers, in hate that.” Pip settled back on his haunches and tapped his experience, rarely acted alone. his chin with the tip of his tail. “To read. Nell taught me to read.” Pip released a “Let’s see, then. Well, the night began like any other. I whimper of pleasure each time he uttered the word. was nestled quite happily on her shoulder, following her Skilley gave Pip a blank look. finger as it tracked the words on the page, a peculiar habit “Oh, yes, of course. You don’t know about reading. of hers. I’d noticed for some time that the marks on the Why would you? And how can I explain what I don’t paper were distinctive: entirely understand myself?” Pip stroked one ear. One looked like a cross on a church steeple… “Let me think. Ah, yes! Remember the newspaper? The another like a fish hook I once saw Croomes pull from one I was standing on just before I dashed off to call on the mouth of a scrod… Maldwyn? You see, those lines and marks and dots on the and another like the round belly on our Henry.” paper are the humans’ silent way of communicating. It’s all Pip smiled at that image. “It became a game to learn around if you look. On papers and doors and windows…” them, one by one. And then it simply happened. I under- In a flurry of memory, the signs and crumpled hand- stood that each mark had its own sound. Strung together bills that Skilley had ignored every day of his life began to they made longer sounds. take on meaning. “But how did you—” “But that evening changed everything. I was following “I told you. Nell,” Pip repeated. “It happened quite Nell’s hand on the page, when in a moment of blinding serendipitously—pardon, what I mean to say is, by clarity I knew the word hovering above her finger.” accident. She was reading a book in her bed one evening. “What was it?” interrupted Skilley, now drawn into It was a volume by Mr. Dickens, who’s often a guest in the tale. our very own chop room. Nell liked to read aloud and “Handkerchief.” that’s how I learned a good many fine human words. Why “What?” I remember one time when she patiently explained the “Handkerchief. It’s a thing humans use—” meaning of the word irony—” “I know what a handkerchief is. I’ve seen Adele’s. Get “Ahem!” on with the story.” 90 91 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 92

“Very well.” Pip gave a little huff. “I was so astonished here’s the page,’ she said. ‘See if you can find the word on that I raced down her arm, which made her squeal and drop your own, that’s a good boy.’ the book. Fairly flying across the counterpane, I slid down “I crawled onto the open book, found the word, and the bedpost, scurried up to her dressing table, and began to gave it a friendly pat.” run mad circles around her very own handker—” “What did she do?” asked Skilley. “Brilliant! Did she understand?” “Why, she swooned. Dead away. It was awful.” “Not at first. But she leapt from her bed and leaned over Skilley’s head bolted up. “Dead away?” the dressing table. I held up a corner of the linen square Pip nodded and wiped his eyes. “She’s gone now. But and she let out a cry: ‘Handkerchief! Is that what you’re try- I still see her sometimes,” he said, sounding a little more ing to tell me, Pip? You…you understand words?’ cheerful. “I bobbed my head up and down. She shook her “See her often, do you?” Skilley wasn’t sure how he head, not quite believing. Then she said, ‘hair ribbon.’ felt about sharing his home with a ghost, no matter how Well, I dove into her little porcelain box and emerged kindhearted she might be. with a mustard-colored hair ribbon between my teeth. “Not often enough for my liking. I must tell her what She blinked at me in amazement. After a pause, she I’ve discovered about Maldwyn.” leaned down and whispered, ‘Nell,’ and I rested my paw “You still talk to her?” on her cheek. “I try, but, well, you know humans. They just don’t “That tender moment lasted no longer than a mouse’s have the ears for it. She used to set out a newspaper, and heartbeat. She jerked away and looked at me, shaking her I would paw at words. Of course, she can’t do that, now head. ‘But I never said the word handkerchief aloud,’ she that she’s...gone. In any event, that’s what inspired her to exclaimed. ‘I never read that far—’ teach me to write.” “She slowly backed away. Never taking her eyes from “To what?” me, she lowered herself to the floor. Her fingers cast about “To make the marks myself,” Pip added with reverence. for the book. Walking toward me with its pages trembling “It’s called writing.” in her outstretched hands, she spoke very softly. ‘Now, A thought neatly unfolded itself in Skilley’s mind,

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laying itself out as plainly as a sheet of paper. “Is…is that what Mr. Dickens has been doing in that notebook of his?” CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX “Why, yes, it is. How I would love to have a glimpse at his words!” “Well, why don’t you?” It became obvious to Skilley that Pinch was set to conquer Pip looked at Skilley in horror. “Oh, I couldn’t. To spy the inn in much the same fashion in which he had seized on an artist’s unfinished work? That might well be a sin control of Fleet Street alleyways: brutish power. If anyone beyond forgiveness.” showed kindness toward the tomcat, he responded with characteristic violence. Soon, all save Adele were giving him a wide berth. As Skilley well knew, this disregard for all tender feelings had been beat into Pinch by his former master. The man was a foul-tempered cur who had been hanged for the murder of a poor scrivener—and all for what? A handful of shillings and a silver watch with no fob chain. Pinch had watched his master’s execution without flinching; uncountable beatings delivered by the man twitching at the end of the rope had hammered all trace of pity out of him. Pinch once confessed to Skilley that he had found the hanging quite satisfying. With good reason, Henry seemed a trifle afraid of the cat. Only once did he try to pet the animal, but the snarl that greeted his outstretched hand quickly made him change his mind, and he withdrew with his fingers still intact. “Ah, well then,” he muttered. “I suppose if Adele insists, we must keep you.” 94 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 96

And Croomes, despite Skilley’s best hope, did not Henry, and even Croomes, by unspoken agreement, had banish Pinch from the inn. Rather, she kept a watchful eye stayed well clear of him. The only lightening of Dickens’s on him whenever he entered the kitchen. The closest thing disposition occurred when he spied the small toothy to a commentary on the new mouser Skilley had heard mouse pulling an even smaller mouse by the tail toward from her were these muttered words: “From tolerable a chink in the baseboard. Once the young one was to fragile, that’s where things have gone. From tolerable to secured behind the opening, the ﬁrst mouse re-emerged fragile.” Skilley knew it could not be Pinch she considered and scanned the room. fragile. So what had the woman so worried? “Collected all the wayward children, have you?” Dick- Only Adele doted on the new addition to the staff. ens called softly. “You are wise to take such care. This new And for some reason, Pinch accepted her scratching of cat is nothing like your friend, the blue.” the fur behind his ears. It was as if a bond of understanding The mouse cocked his head to the side and consid- had grown between them overnight—perhaps it was their ered the man before taking a few halting steps forward. common hatred of mice. This move was very nearly his undoing. “Blest if I ain’t pleased to have ya ’ere, Mr. Oliver,” she Pinch was a blur of ginger, and he had the mouse in said. “Them mouses was givin’ me the apoplexies. Not that his claws in a beat of Dickens’s heart. But the writer, in the other kitty weren’t doin’ of ’is best. There’s just too many his turn, was on Pinch a split second later, twisting the of ’em, see?” cat’s ear with such force that the creature yowled and Fortunately for Skilley’s little friends, Pinch had no clawed at the man’s hand. This allowed the mouse to success at all catching mice. scurry for the safety of the writer’s shoe. It so happened that Mr. Dickens himself played a role Pinch escaped the man’s grasp and released a hideous in depriving Pinch of his best chance at a kill. and prolonged hiss. Wilkie Collins had been feeling under the weather, “Off with you now!” snapped Dickens. “Find yourself and so Dickens had spent several evenings at the inn with- another mouse. I’ve grown rather fond of this one.” He out his friend. One particular night, the frustrated writer took a threatening step toward the cat, who ﬂed the room. had devoted himself to nursing a dark mood. Adele, Then in one movement the man scooped up the mouse.

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“Cross me when I’m in the thick of a new novel, will cheese the grateful mice were providing, this playacting was he?” he growled. The hand that delivered Pip to his mouse draining his strength. It could not be maintained. He had hole was strong and warm. “Stay out of his way, will you? just closed his eyes for a quick doze when he heard squeals. I know a little of stories, my fine friend, and this one Several young mice were gleefully sliding down a drainpipe. could come to a tragic end.” In plain view! Skilley had to talk to Pip. He set out to search Skilley was not pleased when he heard the tale from for the mouse in all the usual places. Near the upstairs land- Pip. He knew that a thwarted Pinch was a dangerous ing he heard unmistakable scuttling sounds. Pinch. These days this disposition was only distinguishable Again, mice out in daylight. from his normal mood by the choleric spasm about his Hadn’t Pip warned them? left eye. Skilley bounded up the last few steps. Newspapers from days before remained scattered on the floor. Light from the afternoon sun filtered through When Skilley saw the slats of the boarded windows, setting the paper ablaze Pinch at the end with flashes of orange and gold. of the third day, “Pip,” Skilley called as loudly as he dared. “Is that you?” he couldn’t resist He was surprised by a startled cough from the corner. asking: “Any luck?” Another mouse. Ah. He remembered him as the wrinkled “You mind your fellow with the matchstick cane. Old Bodkin, wasn’t it? own traps.” Then “Have you seen Pip?” Skilley asked. the ginger cat stalked The old mouse seemed embarrassed, as if he’d been away to continue his caught doing something he oughtn’t. fruitless hunt. “Well, umm… Who? Pip? No, haven’t the foggiest. Skilley was exhausted. Pip who?” Despite a warm hearth and He backed off the newspaper and swung his cane in a the generous quantities of nervous arc. “Pip’s not here. Why would he be here?

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There’s nothing here for him. Or me. Or any of us. Maybe I am a bit worried. Some of the youngsters still don’t grasp we should leave.” their peril.” Skilley’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What have you “And you do, do you?” asked Skilley. “That’d explain been up to?” why you’re out in the open. What if I’d been Pin—” “Up to? Nothing. Besides, I can’t read anyway. Not like “Oh, pish-posh. I’m an old mouse. What would your Pip. Not a whit like Pip. In fact, not at all. Though I try. It’s friend want with me?” simply beyond…” The fellow threw up his paws in resigna- “Your bones, to pick his teeth with. And he won’t care that tion. “If you must know, I was just trying to decipher the they are old and brittle. Is that clear enough for you?” news, but I’m nothing more than an old fool to think—” A chastened Bodkin fiddled with his beard. “Er, yes, Skilley rolled his eyes heavenward. quite clear. How may I be of help?” This mysterious reading business again. “Just do me the favor of warning your youngsters, by He would never understand mice. whatever means you wish.” “By the by,” asked Bodkin, “what were you wanting “Very well. I am yours to command.” with Pip?” With that, Bodkin hobbled toward a hole in the wall, “Only to make sure he’s warned all your kith and kin. muttering to himself. “Ten thousand mice, afraid of one cat? They must stay hidden. May I remind you that he eats mice.” Solidarity is what we need. Why I’d lead the charge myself…” “Yes, yes. We’ve been warned.” His last words were lost amongst the plaster panels “I didn’t see the gaslight flicker.” and wooden laths. “Ah. We’ve other ways of passing news. Ways even older than the gaslight.” Bodkin was paying Skilley only cursory attention now; he was engrossed in the act of turning up a corner of the paper with his matchstick, study- ing first one side, then the other. “Such as?” Curiosity raised its feline head again. “Word of Mouse, of course,” said Bodkin, dropping the paper and looking quite grave now. “Although, I’ll say 100 101 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:06 PM Page 102

“There, there,” he said, softening. “I do apologize, CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN my dearest Too, but you must understand, this is not a game—” “Pip, come quick!” cried Nudge, one of the scout- ing mice Pip had set to watch for the cat. He was a “Not fair! I called Queen’s Cross!” lanky, good-natured mouse, whose face had never “Stop this instant!” Pip ordered the youngsters who before registered such absolute fear. were scurrying up and down the cellar shelves, playing at “What is it?” Pip’s heart jounced, then bounced, whisker tag. “You must keep hidden. There is danger about.” then nearly stopped at the panic in Nudge’s face. The little ones only laughed. “It’s got Smeech and Popkin and I think Brummel. “He’s just another cat,” sang one. They wouldn’t listen to me. They said they couldn’t “Like Skilley!” chimed in another. stand hiding anymore; they were dying for a bit of “No! Not in the least like Skilley! How can I make you something sweet. And now—” see?” Pip’s own brush with Pinch had been enough to “Take me to them,” Pip commanded. His words awaken his every cell to the peril these pups were in. How worked as a dash of icy water, bringing Nudge back to could he make them feel it, too? himself. He grabbed the closest tail and yanked. Too flew back- “Yes, sir. In the stillroom.” ward and landed on her rear. Long before they arrived, the terror from the still- “Pip pulled Too’s tail again. Bad mouse!” she bawled. room swept out to meet them. Hysterical mice poured “Hush!” Pip cried. “And the rest of you: Behind the forth, blocking their path. Pip and Nudge had to fight walls! Now!” Though he had no children of his own, he their way forward, as if swimming upstream through a used the voice of an angry parent. water pipe. A frantic scuttering ensued, and soon Pip was left “Excuse me, pardon me, please, let us pass.” Pip’s alone with one wailing youngster. Nervously sniffing polite words were lost on the frenzied crowd. Finally, the air for Pinch’s unmistakable acrid scent, he took Too he turned his shoulder and plowed his way through by the paw and led her to the nearest hole. to the chink in the wall—the passageway that in all 103 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 104

C . D i c k e n s times past had led to shelf after shelf of jams and jellies and sugary treats. This time, however, no sweetness Murder and mayhem at The Cheese! awaited them. Pip’s trepidation was well justified. I’d returned the other afternoon from one of my invigorating “In there, sir,” Nudge whispered. “Something awful.” Pip quashed the nausea that threatened to overcome walks to discover that Adele had brought in another mouser. him and crept through the narrow opening. I still bear the scars of my own encounter with the bully. Unlike What he saw made him quake from his nose to the the blue I’ve grown so fond of, this one appears a perfect ruffian. very tip of his tail. Smeech and Popkin were already gone. Adele has spent the last quarter-hour mopping up the gruesome And Brummel…nearly so. remnants of his first kill. Rather untidy for a cat. It was the sight of Bodkin racing across the floor, bran- He brings to mind my own Bill Sykes. I still shrink at the dishing his cane like a sword, that stopped his heart cold. Who would have thought one so old could move with memory of committing his heartless perfidy to pen and ink. such swiftness? Before Pip could call to him, the brave How could I have allowed him to so brutally slay poor Nancy? fool had attacked the cat, stabbing at his paw again and Ah, well, a writer must never shy away from a good, solid, again with his matchstick. literary murder. He must be merciless. If the story necessitates, Pinch now turned all his bloodthirsty attention toward he must hang the antagonist, drown the heroine, commit the this feeble threat. parson’s long-suffering wife to Bedlam—and damn the reviewers! Pip scrambled toward the old mouse. “Bodkin!” he cried. He stumbled, then fell, paralyzed by the sight that But I fritter my time when I should be writing the first so violently seized him. “Bodkin,” he whimpered. installment of my next serialization. My Sydney Carton must He could do nothing. face the guillotine. This tale of two cities could be my best yet, He was, after all, only one mouse. but I am still in need of a smart phrase to begin it. I hope for the best, but expect the worst.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

It took time to coax the story out of Nudge, but Skilley Within moments Skilley found himself on the rooftop was patient. of Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese. The ghoulish tale emerged from the distraught mouse Ah, London. between nervous sips of spider leg tea (a popular mouse The sooty air, a source of complaint to most of remedy for shock). Poor Nudge told the story in gasps, the city, was an elixir to the street cat. He took several accompanied by the occasional curse, which was brought pleasurable breaths before his eyes fell on the glimmering down quite colorfully on Pinch’s head. Each new invective Thames. Tonight the moon’s reﬂection across the water was followed by yet another gulp of tea and a bite of cheese reminded him of spilt milk. (a mouse remedy for nearly everything). When Nudge was Remembering Pip, he tore his gaze away and scanned done, Skilley felt the hackles rise along his back. the rooftop. He spied his friend huddled, shivering, He had one question. against the old brick chimney. Skilley was not surprised “And what of Pip? Is he, was he…?” that the mouse was shaking so violently. The wind was Nudge swallowed, then shook his head vigorously. cold, it is true, but the loss of several young mice—and Pip was not hurt. He’d last seen him heading up… then Bodkin—would have made him colder still. “Pip!” But Skilley was already on his way. The mouse looked up with a blank expression. Upon seeing Skilley, the look instantly changed to one of relief. Skilley, who lacked Pip’s ease with words, was unsure how to respond. He trotted over and—with the greatest care— scooped the mouse up into his mouth. This made speaking marvelously difﬁcult. Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 108

As for Pip, traveling in the cat’s mouth no longer felt After adjustments were made for the sake of comfort, strange to him, and he went along without protest. each grew still and sighed in his turn. It had been an unfor- Skilley carried him to the sheltered side of the chimney, givably long day. away from the blustery wind. Ever so gently, he set Pip down. “I’m—I’m sorry about your friends,” murmured Skilley. “We’ll take cover here for a bit. I’ll warm you up in Then he added, “Do you understand now why Pinch is a my paws, if you like,” suggested Skilley. He wouldn’t have much greater problem than restoring Maldwyn to his place?” blamed Pip for declining the offer. In his place, Skilley “Mmm. He’s certainly a more rapacious one, I’ll grant thought, I might not feel kindly toward cats of any stripe today. you that.” The second reference to the day’s tragedy Pip surprised him. brought on an inevitable ﬁt of grooming. “I accept your offer, and thank you. I admit to feeling Pip licked his paw… rather chilled. It’s propitious that you should happen ﬂicked his ear… along just now.” Pip shuddered again. licked his paw… “Propi—? Never mind.” and brushed his whiskers. “Lucky,” said Pip with a weak smile. Skilley watched, making no comment. Skilley circled the spot once and dropped to the cold When Pip paused for a moment, Skilley said softly, slate alongside the chimney. He then tucked in his hind “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” legs and opened his front paws, looking for all the world Pip gave his paw another quick lick—and stopped short to Pip like the great Sphinx of Egypt, a mysterious statue of rubbing his nose. “No, but I was. In any case, even if he had seen in one of Nell’s books. I had reached Bodkin’s side in time, what could I have done? “You really are an enigma—a perfect puzzle of a cat.” That’s the trouble with being a mouse. One hasn’t the size, “Are you coming or not? I can hear your teeth rattling you see, of one’s enemies. If a friend is in mortal danger—” from here. And keep to words a street cat understands, He stopped. Taking a deep breath, Pip returned to his ritual. would you?” said Skilley, not without humor. He licked his paw… Pip skittled between the cat’s outstretched front legs. touched his belly— Skilley drew in his paws, enveloping the mouse in a cozy “Stop!” cried Skilley, startling Pip. “Please. I know you circle of fur. feel dreadful. But you’re right. There was nothing you 108 109 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 110

could do. You are small…but you are not CHAPTER THIRTY alone.” Skilley wrestled with the pang of guilt he felt for not shadowing Pinch more closely. “Well, well, well, what’s this?” oozed Pinch in a voice as “Neither are you,” sticky sweet as honey. He crouched inches from Skilley’s offered Pip. nose, eyes locked on Pip, who was fast asleep between his “Why, er, thank friend’s paws, blissfully ignorant of the threat. you, Pip,” said Skilley. “This one’s mine,” hissed Skilley, grateful for the bolt “Of course.” And of inspiration. Moments before, he had wakened from a with that, Pip curled deep slumber to a sensation of cold terror. Pinch’s sour up under Skilley’s scent had given him just enough time to react. chin. Pinch edged closer, but at the sight of Pip’s inert form, The day, which he recoiled. “Ugh. It’s dead! What kind of cat are you?” had left them spent “I-I like them that way.” Skilley’s every nerve was on alert. and fatigued, took its Perhaps you can sleep when two cats are arguing just final toll; the cat drew his above your head, but Pip could not. And because he could paws in a bit tighter, gently cradling the mouse, and not, he awoke, to find himself looking directly into a pair soon, both were snugly and soundly asleep under a of venomous green eyes. waxing English moon. “I thought you said ’e was dead.” Pinch was electric And that’s just how Pinch found them. with suspicion. Without pausing to deliberate, Skilley gave way to instinct. With one brutal swipe of a paw, he smacked Pip with such force that the little mouse flew across the rooftop. 110 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 112

“Now he is!” Skilley snarled. For one suspended instant, no CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE one moved. Pinch stared at Skilley, his look unreadable. Skilley looked to Pip, who Pip had the advantage in that he knew every crack, crevice, stared back with a mixture of and hidey-hole in the old inn. The mouse could not—and terror and confusion. would not—be found until he was ready, that much was To his relief, Pip scrambled clear. Skilley had questioned various other mice, but to onto all fours and tore toward no avail. It was Too who brought home the futility of ﬁnd- the open window. ing his erstwhile friend. “What was that about, I’d like Skilley came across the tiny mouse on the garret t’know?” demanded Pinch. But he landing, where she was happily playing with a plump was talking to himself. lemon seed. Skilley was gone. “You shouldn’t be out in the open like this,” Skilley said irritably. “Is Skilley going to pull Too’s tail?” she asked in a voice of accusation. Then her expression changed to one of exaggerated severity. “What did Skilley do to make Pip sad? No, no. Too won’t tell you where he is. Pip is busy.” She went back to her lemon seed, cooing to it, “There, there, don’t cry now.” “But I need to ﬁnd him. Something’s happened and I don’t know what to do.” “Why don’t you ask that one?” she said, pointing over her shoulder at Maldwyn’s door. “He knows everything.” 112 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 114

Skilley stared at the door that hung loosely on its “Don’t be absurd. He’s too fond of you for that; hinges. A slight push of his nose was all that stood although with these recent developments, who’s to know? between him and the dreadful old bird. Did he dare? Then again, Pip is one of these new radical thinkers who He snapped his tail and thrust out his chest. “Very believe that any creature”—here the raven paused and well. I will ask Maldwyn.” turned a bead of an eye toward Skilley—“even a cat, can But as soon as he eased through the entrance to the be rehabilitated. But, to answer your question, no, he did garret room, his nerve began to fail him. not speak of any troubles to me.” “You?” The ancient bird looked down his iron-black “Then how did you—?” beak and regarded Skilley with an inscrutable look; there “You are a cat.” was no guessing what lay behind it. Skilley offered no apologies. Could one apologize for “Please, sir…” Skilley hesitated, then plowed ahead. one’s being? This visit had been a bad idea. For all his “I need your advice.” grizzled wisdom, Maldwyn’s hatred of felines made him “My advice, you say? How very thoughtful of a cat to a poor choice for a confessor. consider a raven’s advice.” “Yes, I am a cat, and clearly unwelcome here.” Skilley Skilley nearly turned away at that. “Well, I have a—” turned to leave. “Yes, yes, you have troubles. Of course, you do. And “And Pip is a mouse,” the raven called after him. you’ve come to me because you’ve heard I am known to “What other outcome did you expect? Cats and mice are be—how would one phrase it?” enemies eternal.” “Wise?” offered Skilley, chancing that a bit of ﬂattery Skilley spun around and stared angrily at the raven. might soften the old bird. “Cats and mice, you say? But what of one cat and one “Inclined to see through falsehood would be more mouse? I say they can be friends if they choose.” accurate. The lies one tells oneself are the worst, of course. “You’re the one who turned against your so-called No, no, no.” He waved a wing dismissively. “Don’t tell me friend,” snapped the raven, “not I.” a thing. I can guess readily enough. You’ve already turned “I was trying to protect him.” The moment the words on young Pip, have you?” left his mouth, Skilley knew they were a lie. And the way Skilley was stunned. “He told you?” Maldwyn cocked his head proved that he knew it, too. 114 115 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 116

“What I mean is,” Skilley continued, “I wasn’t going What do you suppose it felt toward you in that instant?” to eat him. I was just pretending…” He groped vainly for “Ah. But I made no pretense of friendship,” scored the right words. He tried to remember everything that the raven. had occurred the other night, in particular, the thoughts “I was not pretend—” that had passed through his head when Pinch surprised Skilley could not ﬁnish the sentence. He felt a cutting them on the roof. pain, yet he assured himself he owed neither Pip nor He told the raven the story. Maldwyn an explanation. Had he not kept his end of the He held back nothing. bargain? Why, the ingrates should thank him for all that he Then he waited. The raven’s response was not long had done to protect them thus far! They should shower in coming. him with cheese and compliments. As for Pip… “As I have already observed,” said Maldwyn, “you’re This was of course, the very sort of drivel that even a cat. An alley cat, an infernal subspecies. I know your a sensible person grasps at to console himself when he is kind. Look at me.” He held up his crippled wing, once utterly and undeniably in the wrong. broken, now poorly mended. He strutted and stumbled And though not a person, Skilley was sensible. As if forward, closer to Skilley, then thrust his beak into his through a looking glass, quite suddenly he saw the truth face. “And it took a cowardly gang of your friends to do in himself. this. Yes, I know your kind.” “Yes,” said the raven. “I see.” “Those were no friends of mine.” No sound from Skilley. “Perhaps you weren’t one of that savage rabble. And Only the clickering of Maldwyn’s claws, as he awk- yet—” Maldwyn paused to stab at a beetle scurrying wardly shifted his stance, cut through the heavy silence. across the boards. He tossed his head back to swallow the At last Maldwyn spoke again. His head tilted to one insect, then said matter-of-factly, “And yet, when con- side, then the other. “Don’t tell me you feel sorry for what fronted with the possible discovery of your secret, you you’ve done?” gave in to your nature, did you not?” More silence. Skilley was in no mood to be lectured. “As you have “Interesting. Suspect, but interesting.” just given in to yours, by eating that unfortunate insect? More clickering followed as the bird hopped and 116 117 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 118

hobbled around Skilley. “Well, you certainly look the alley “Yes? Go on. Say it.” cat. Those are some nasty scrapes and scars—which “—my friend. I didn’t mean to hurt him. Pip, I mean.” perhaps explains why you behaved like an alley cat.” The raven blinked several times and then said, “Even When at last Skilley spoke, he felt unspeakably tired. more remarkable to me is the fact that I believe you. “I acted to save my own hide. I didn’t want Pinch to know I also believe that you did hurt him. And now you feel of my, my—” sorry and wonder how you can undo what’s been done, “Your unseemly love of cheese?” eh? Well, I am here to tell you that you cannot undo it “No!” said Skilley. His agitation at being so misunder- any more than I can fly back to the Tower on my own and stood drove the words from his mouth in a rush. “I didn’t resume my rightful place. Only worms and insects have want him to know that Pip was—” no memories of past sins. And only humans can choose to forget them. We animals must live with our foolhardy choices.” Had Skilley detected a change in Maldwyn’s tone? “All one can do”—the bird’s tone had softened—“is own up to the truth.” “The truth,” Skilley spat, “is that I should never have come to The Cheese.” Maldwyn’s head snapped up at that. He clacked his beak. “And if you hadn’t, and we now had only Pinch’s fine company? I know of his brutality most intimately. He it was who took my eye. You are a cat, but that one…that one is a fiend.” “A cat is a cat,” said Skilley. Maldwyn remained quiet for a long while, deep in thought. When at last he spoke, the hardness in his good eye seemed to melt away and his voice rasped in his 119 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 120

throat. “And nature can’t be changed?” He turned his back, as if dismissing the humbled cat. Skilley felt positively peevish now. “I don’t know why CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO I came to you.” With his back still turned, Maldwyn answered. “You knew before you entered this chamber that you would February, the shortest of all months of the year, surprised receive no soft words from me. Therefore, you must have London with an unseasonable thaw. A springlike warmth come in search of the truth.” caused the city’s inhabitants to abandon their great coats Then Maldwyn gathered himself and stood erect. and scarves and to sally forth in search of adventure. Once more Skilley witnessed the rising majesty of No such thaw, however, descended upon Ye Olde a Tower raven. Even with his head averted, there was Cheshire Cheese. Pinch turned surlier as the mice took royalty in his form. greater care to avoid him. Absurdly, he accused Skilley of “You want the truth, Master Skilley? Then find out catching all of them on the sly. just what manner of cat you really are…and brazenly, “Don’t cast the blame on me,” Skilley said. “They’re too unabashedly, boldly, be that cat.” frightened of you to show themselves. It may be time for The bird shrank to his normal self, which left him you to turn to easier work—perhaps at the wharf? There’s looking old and impossibly frail. “Kindly leave now. You ﬁsh heads aplenty for a skilled hunter such as yourself.” have wearied me.” “Leave the Cheese? Not of me own doing! Though I’m sick to death of table scraps. I’ll not stomach another plate of bubble and squeak. Might nip me a bit of cod tonight when that cook closes shop for the night.” “I’d steer clear of her if I were you,” warned Skilley. “She’ll have your guts for garters if she catches you stealing from her kitchen.” Croomes, for her part, was a storm that each day broke earlier and blew harder. She ranted and raved about the 120 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 122

dwindling stores of cheese. “It’s more than the usual “What do you think?” deficit!” she cried, but when pressed, the cook could offer “I think I’d like another nip of sugar.” The old raven Henry no further explanation. had settled himself in a pile of rags and straw, How was she to know that on top of the inn’s mice his eyes closed, his beak opening and closing with each she was also nightly feeding a rather large cat? asthmatic breath. Poor Henry suffered Croomes’s tirades with painful “I’ll fetch you one,” said Skilley. resignation. And Adele? If Pinch had her skill for uncov- “If you think it would help.” ering mice, he would have dined in great state. As it was, “Isn’t that what you want?” Adele was left to doubt her own sanity. “Does it matter what I want?” “Why does no one else see ’em?” she lamented. Skilley rattled his head to shake out the confusion. As for Skilley, he had not run across Pip since the affair “Well, then! What about Pip?” on the roof. Then one morning he caught sight of him “He can get his own sugar.” scrambling up a drainpipe, sporting what looked like “That’s not what I meant.” a boot-blackened tail. He called to him, but Pip had “But that’s the correct answer.” The bird buried his already scrambled away. beak under his wing. Fretful and unabsolved, Skilley took to visiting “You don’t understand.” But it was no use. Maldwyn’s Maldwyn. Not that the visits were always pleasant. Indeed, gesture was as good as a closed door. “All right then. they were almost always the opposite. I will talk to Pip.” Despite this, Skilley found himself growing fond of Maldwyn seemed to make an even stronger point the old curmudgeon. Maldwyn made him use his brain, of ignoring the cat. and though this experience often proved exhausting— “I will. See if I don’t,” declared Skilley. and sometimes painful—their conversations left Skilley The raven sighed and had the last muffled word, feeling alert, even electrified, for hours afterward. coming, as it was, from under his wing. “What I’d like “Maybe I should talk to Pip,” he said to Maldwyn one to see…what I’d love to see…what I’m dying to see, rainy afternoon. is how you’re going to return me to my rightful place in the Tower.” “If you think it would help.” 122 123 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 124

“He’s in the attic.” It was Too. Her feathery whiskers emerged first, followed by her CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE velvety ears. Pip was practicing his ledders, she explained. “Ledders?” Skilley raised a brow. “Ledders is what he calls ’em, and ledders is what they be,” said Too. “His ledders.” In the chop room Skilley ran into a thoroughly ruffled Skilley made a move to the stairs. Pinch. His matted fur and bedraggled tail reeked of leeks “And he ’stinctly said he doesn’t want to be ’sturbed.” and garlic, and a streamer of cress dangled between his “Oh, all right! I won’t ’sturb—” eyes. Attached to his side was a sticky glob of wheat flour. Too gave a brief cry and popped back into the hole “Whatever happened to you?” Skilley asked, squelch- without having to be told. ing an urge to burst into laughter. When Skilley turned around he saw why. Pinch simply hissed at him. Then out came the word Pinch! “Croomes,” uttered with such ill will it made Skilley A full half-page of newspaper had fastened itself to the wince. hardening lump of dough on his side. The paper showed The livid cat disappeared behind a drape, perhaps to the shredded evidence of his claws, but still it stuck clean himself. stubbornly to the dried paste and matted fur as if it “Best avoid the kitchen,” Adele called to Skilley. were now a permanent part of Pinch’s hide. “Cook’s in a right state. She just flung a lump of pasty Skilley had to stop himself again from laughing out dough at my Oliver. And mind you, her aim is sure. loud as the indignant cat slunk away, no doubt to find But imagine! Accusin’ the cat of stealin’ ’er cheese!” She some private spot to continue his fruitless grooming. sniggered. “As if a cat’d touch cheese.” Skilley cringed, then hurried from the room and dashed down to the cellar. “Hsst. Pip,” he whispered half- heartedly through one of the numerous mouse holes in the masonry walls. “Are you there?”

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“For? Why, I’m sorry for what happened.” “What happened?” Maldwyn asked the question in CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR a very uncurious way. “What are you wittering on about? What happened on the roof, of course!” Making a mess of things is an occupation at which even “The roof?” the most unskilled can excel. But mending is an art that “What happened on the roof with Pinch. You heard requires years of practice. In short, breaking a thing is easy my confession. You know what I’m talking about.” (even a child can do it); fixing that selfsame thing may be Maldwyn continued his Socratic approach, answering harder (sometimes even adult persons cannot manage it). each question with another in return. “Ah. But, do you Skilley was learning this lesson in the most painful of know what happened and why? And this is most impor- ways. What he had broken was a thread of trust as thin tant—do you know what in the name of all that is holy and delicate as a glass filament—a thread that had bound you are supposed to be sorry for?” him to one of only two friends in his life. Maldwyn waited a full minute. “Well, have you no Maldwyn’s ear was better than none. answer?” “I’m losing my mind,” said Skilley in exasperation. “Haven’t you?” Skilley challenged. “You, who are the “I call to him through the attic door but he says he is too nightingale with the golden beak? You have enough busy. He speaks to everyone but me, and I spend all day words to overflow the Thames. You and Pip—” At the talking to myself.” mention of his lost friend, Skilley’s voice cracked. “Mmm. Seems everyone is talking to the wrong per- “Skilley.” The raven rarely called him by name. son.” Maldwyn returned to filing his beak on the steel “When one has done an injury to another, the simplest stays of an old abandoned corset. solution is to offer up that time-honored and most “I will talk to him,” said Skilley. “And tell him I’m sorry.” insulting olive branch, ‘I’m sorry.’ The speaker of these “So you keep threatening to do.” The raven gave the words is often bewildered when they are received metal stay another swipe with his beak, then paused. “But with anything less than gushing gratitude. Can you what are you sorry for?” imagine why?” 127 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 128

Skilley stared dully at Maldwyn. “I don’t know what “Pip, do you have a moment?” you’re talking about.” “Dreadfully busy just now, Skilley.” “Very well, I will tell you. It is not enough to say you “This is rather important.” are sorry.You must utterly own the terrible thing you have “So is rescuing England and France from the brink of done. You must cast no blame on the one you’ve injured. war.” Pip dipped his tail in a thimble and brushed it onto Rather, accept every molecule of the responsibility, even the surface of the wall. He stepped back and appraised his if reason and self-preservation scream against it. Then, work with dissatisfaction. and only then, will the words ‘I am sorry’ have meaning.” “Yes, yes, I see.” Although Skilley didn’t see at all. What could this silly obsession with writing possibly have to do with saving England? The cat wisely caught his own tongue and changed the subject. This time Skilley didn’t wait for permission, but rather “There is something I would like to say.” barged right in on the preoccupied mouse. “I’m listening.” Pip studiously applied his skills to a The spectacle that lay before him drove all other new mark; it appeared to Skilley very much like the ears thoughts from his mind. He found himself fumbling to on a cat. It looked something like this: hold on to its slippery meaning. So this was what Too had meant when she said Pip was practicing his “ledders.” The marks that covered the lowest four inches of the wall to his left looked something like this: Skilley braced himself before releasing the hailstorm of words that he had been holding in for so long. c d l f N x p G R y v w “The other night, on the roof—” Pip turned to begin another letter. Skilley followed the inky trail along two and a third walls. “Wait, Pip! Hear me out.” They led a scripted path to Pip, who was so engrossed in Skilley began again. “The other night on the roof… his task that he seemed unaware of his visitor. Either that, I betrayed you. I was terriﬁed of what would happen if Skilley thought, or he doesn’t want to acknowledge my presence. Pinch learned of our friendship. I was ashamed, I was 128 129 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 130

selﬁsh, and I was a coward. I hate that cat, yet I cannot divorce him from myself. And if I can feel such horror and disgust at what I did, how much more might you? CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE You, who trusted me?” Pip stopped writing and his eyes met Skilley’s. The cat lowered his gaze, then continued. As he watched Pip standing before the mouse council, “That night I learned an awful truth. There are things Skilley’s heart felt lighter than it had in days. He had that once lost cannot be brought back. But whether you humbly thanked Pip for including him in the gathering, forgive me or not, I promise until the moment of my last but his friend had only shrugged and smiled. mortal breath to be the cat you once believed me to be. The meeting place was a shadowy corner of the I am sorry, Pip. Truly sorry.” cellar, and Skilley was, as ever, on alert for signs of Pinch. Pip shot him a very small smile. “That’s a good many Doxy, a rather self-important mouse, had arrived last, words for a cat.” wiping his paws on his belly and reeking of cheese. “Ahem.” Toff, a senior member of the mouse council, cleared his throat in impatience. “Are we to proceed or not?” Pip licked his paw… touched his ear… A quick glance from Skilley, followed by the slightest shake of his head, arrested Pip’s nervous habit. “Yes, yes, yes. We must proceed. I have called you all together”—here Pip nodded at the mice and then at Skilley—“to discuss Maldwyn.” Mumbles and grumbles of “not again,” “not today,” and “not on your cheese-eating life” swept through the dozen or so council members. Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 132

Pip disregarded the objections. Somehow he had to Shouts of “hear, hear” stuttered through the assembly. convince his fellow mice that a course of action must be “Be that as it may,” Pip continued, shouting to be agreed upon. Posthaste. heard above the fray, “there is another solution we haven’t Skilley had no patience with the council members’ discussed as yet. We only have need of paper and ink and grumblings. “Listen to Pip,” he said. “He has a fine idea.” a bit of luck.” After the coughs, shrugs, and a surprising amount of “And a smattering of courage,” added Skilley. snickering had died down, Pip continued. “I have been “And how about a bit of marmalade, while we’re puzzling over the riddle of what to do with our friend at it,” called a rather cheeky mouse by the name of Maldwyn for some time now. Chesterfield. “He cannot fly—that we know. He cannot walk to the “And some filberts,” ordered another. Tower, unless we wish to draw out every brigand, cut- “And toast!” purse, and highwayman in all of London. Thanks to the “Yes! Toast and marmalade!” human newspapers, the entire city is on the lookout for “And filberts!” Maldwyn, and more than a few would leap at the oppor- Pip could feel himself losing control of the council. tunity to ransom the Queen’s raven. “Silence!” Skilley thundered. It was the same voice of “Nor would we want to draw the attention of the con- command Pip had once used on him. “Hush, and listen stables. Our humans might be held responsible for the to Pip. He knows what he’s about. He has a plan. And it raven’s presence, and I fear it would not go well with can work. He has more brains than the entire woolly- them if the Queen’s men found him under this roof.” Pip headed lot of you.” Skilley rose and prowled around the paused to catch his breath. council. “So give him, if you please, the courtesy of your It was all the opening the council needed. ears. And I mean every ear.” “What we have is a right pickle then,” announced The mice watched him nervously now. The recent Doxy in his usual imperious tone. experience with Pinch was obvious in their faces. “Picklelilly!” cried another. “What we have is pure Not a twitter. picklelilly.” Not a hiccup.

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Not a twitch of one solitary whisker. Pinch, who had been keeping his legendary temper Skilley laid himself down to the right of Pip and in check for days, let his claws spring from their pads. His smiled sweetly at the now paralyzed congregation. tail snapped and burst into the shape of a chimney sweep’s “Woolly-headed?” whispered Pip. brush. His ears flattened against his head, and he hissed “Go on,” said Skilley. “They’re waiting,” from the very back of his throat. There were no further interruptions as Pip laid out the The low moaning snarl was the only warning Skilley plan. He had just finished explaining the final steps when had before Pinch catapulted himself at him. But the tender skin beneath his fur prickled. Every mouse in it was enough. Skilley dodged to the right, the room was experiencing a similar sensation. which sent Pinch tumbling across the “Scatter!” Skilley cried, unnecessarily. flagstones. He came to a rest against The mice whisked from the room in all directions, the far wall, his four feet splayed leaving behind tiny whirlwinds of empty dust. out about him. Seconds later, Pinch appeared at the bottom of the cellar stairs. “So, this ’ere’s the spot where you’ve been mousing alone, eh?” He sounded disinterested at first, as if he were asking after Skilley’s digestion. “Well? Is it? Is this where they ’ide?” More insistent now, he stalked from hole to hole, sniffing and snorting. “Their reek is strong ’ere.” Skilley had prepared himself for this. “Yes! And you’ve just spooked the lot of them away!” he scolded. “There would’ve been plenty for us both, but you—” “I wouldn’t take that tone if I was you.” “Mercifully, I’m not you. My tone is my own, and I’ll take it where I please—Piccadilly Circus, if I choose, although I suspect your tastes run more to the slums of St. Giles.”

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“Why, you coward!” Pinch sprang up and charged. Skilley evaded him again. And again Pinch landed in a tumbled heap. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX How is this possible? Skilley thought. The other cat hasn’t landed a single blow. The wonder of it almost made him forget that this was Pip had been incubating the idea for days now. He knew Pinch. The most dangerous cat on Fleet Street. from observing the patrons of the inn that when humans Although chilling, Skilley found the encounter, very were far from one another they often communicated …familiar. Aha! he thought. It’s just like dodging a ﬁshwife’s through letter writing. The penny post, it was called. All broom! they needed were paper, an envelope, and a stamp. Skilley braced for another attack. But none came. He Pip’s plan was bold but simple: a discreet letter would looked about and found himself alone. be sent to the Tower. Pinch had ﬂed the room, yet oddly it was Skilley who Nudge and Too were assigned to procure the paper felt the tingle of fear race down his spine. and the envelope. Pip would provide his own practiced lettering. As neither Skilley nor Pip had thumbs with which to put the postal package together, they would leave that task to Maldwyn. Being a raven, he was mightily gifted with his beak and claws. As for acquiring the stamp, the mice and raven had naturally turned to Skilley. Among them, only he could move openly among the humans. But if Skilley thought stealing a stamp would be simple, he was quickly disabused of that notion. 136 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 138

One would think that a CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN penny stamp would be easy to come by in this particular inn, what with so many writers bumping about: Mr. It was Mr. Thackeray’s fondness for peppers, of all things, Dickens, Mr. Collins, a tall bull- that gave Skilley the opportunity to carry out his task. Wilkie Collins dog of a man named Thackeray, Cold had returned, reminding London’s citizens of and a Mr. Bulwer-Lytton, who seemed a bit full of himself. just how ﬁckle the English climate could be. But one would be wrong. Writers are a miserly lot, and to On a particularly severe afternoon, Mr. Thackeray leave something as dear as a penny red lying about was bustled into the inn, stamping his feet and shaking a dust- looked upon by these artists with nothing short of horror. ing of snow from his cloak. “Winter is the name of misery herself on the lips of all frost-battered creatures,” he cried to Henry. “Pull me a pint. And a jigger of rum.” “Right up,” Henry called. “You may take Mr. Dickens’s table. He’s not likely to brave the weather today.” Skilley dozed near the ﬁreplace, grateful for his home in the inn. The warmth against his backside (and the fact that Pinch was off in some other room, likely hiding from Croomes) was a great comfort. William Makepeace Thackeray Edward Bulwer-Lytton His ears pricked up when he heard Mr. Thackeray call out to the barmaid. “I’ve some letters to post,” he said. “Adele, darling, could you run out and purchase a dozen penny reds?” “What? Now? In this weather?” 138 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 140

“I’ll give you tuppence for it.” The potboy scratched his head and shrugged. He bent “Tuppence? Make it ’alf a crown an’ I’m your girl.” down to pet Skilley behind the ears. “What the blazes is “Half a crown? Why for that I’d go myself! How about Vess-poo-chee-us?” a shilling? And a kiss on the cheek?” Skilley had no answer to that question. But he knew a “Now ’ow is that payment fer me, eh? A shilling, no great deal about peppers. He’d tried to eat one once. The kiss, an’ it’s a bargain.” first bite of pepper had sent him into shudders of burn- “Very well,” Mr. Thackeray grumped. “No kiss then.” ing pain. And when he’d tried to rub the tears from his Adele bundled up and swept from the inn, laughing at eyes with paws that had touched the savage vegetables, the thought of a kiss from this older gentleman. his agony made him wish for a relief that he assumed only “Er, will you be ordering any supper, then?” asked death could provide. Skilley was wrong; time alone had Henry. proved an effective remedy. A whooping sort of cough and a belch rolled from Peppers. He believed he hated them second only to doors. Mr. Thackeray’s throat. “Some toast perhaps. And cheese, He stared at Mr. Thackeray, who now sat at Mr. Dickens’s of course. Your famous Cheshire. And do you have any table, scribbling away on sheets of paper. Writing, Pip had peppers? I would love some peppers—red and spicy, called it. Though Pip did it with his tail, this man used if you have them.” a goose quill. While Skilley was wondering what had become “But my dear Mr. Thackeray,” Henry said with some of the goose that had once been attached to that quill, reluctance (Thackeray was, after all, a good patron), Henry produced a plate of cheese and roasted peppers. “you know how they upset your digestion.” Mmmm. Now Skilley remembered why he had tried “Blast my digestion,” the writer cried. “I’ve never the peppers. They smelled fine. A perfect companion known anyone to die of dyspepsia. Since I’m not to have aroma to the cheese. Sweet, yet pungent, tangy and fruity a kiss, I want some peppers.” all at once. A perfect disguise to the firestorm they held “As you wish. Toast and cheese…and peppers. Red inside. and spicy.” Mr. Thackeray carefully built a cheesy structure upon Then to a passing potboy Henry whispered, “Be ready a foundation of toast. The capstone was a full red pepper, for Vesuvius.” curved into what appeared to be a smile. 140 141 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 142

A smile of deceit. Mr. Thackeray erupted from the booth, nearly knock- In two bites, the writer devoured the construct, smile ing an astonished Adele off her feet. Stamps flew through and all. the air, twisting and turning like autumn leaves, as they His nose flushed crimson. fluttered to the floor. His bulldog cheeks quivered. The man reeled to his left, tilted to his right, and The veins on his forehead nearly popped and beads of finally staggered to a stop against the wall. sweat formed, then swelled, then trickled down his nose “Yeow!” he cried. He reached down to grasp his ankle. and cheeks. The nail that had snagged shawls, torn hems, and “Delicious,” he croaked. With years of experience as a punctured ankles had once again claimed another victim. practiced pepper eater, he wiped his eyes not with his Like a hulking ship in a gale, Mr. Thackeray listed hands but with a silk handkerchief. toward the bar. He was just building his second course when Adele “Milk!” he cried. “Milk and treacle! They’re the only returned with the stamps. antidotes.” “An even dozen,” she said. “Already cut an’—What’s Henry bent down and examined the baseboard. “I’ll this? Why, Mr. Thackeray, ’ave you been at them peppers have to get that nail pulled,” he said, echoing the words of again?” every landlord since the time of King Charles the Second. “I’m sorry, my dear, but I just can’t resist.” While all attention was focused on the innkeeper and “You’re as red as these ’ere penny stamps,” she the ailing Mr. Thackeray, Skilley—as casual as a cat could exclaimed. Then she laughed. “You’re as red as me Uncle be—strolled across the floor, paused as if to sniff the floor- Bob’s bunions.” boards for mice, then slipped, unnoticed, out of the room. His response was to gobble up the second installment. “Ah,” he said, his voice ecstatic. “Ummmmm.” But moments later he clutched his stomach. “Ohhhhhh.” Now he was moaning in an ecstasy of pain. “Vesuvius!” cried Henry with all the depth of an innkeeper’s wisdom. 142 143 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 144

C . D i c k e n s

I ought to have been at The Cheese yesterday evening! CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT I curse myself for staying home. It would have made a wonderful scene for a book. Thackeray was up to his usual gastronomic mischief, and Henry is no match for him. Of all things for men to love It is neither an easy nor a welcome task to compose a letter by committee (ask any writer). Particularly when so foolishly! I fear dear William will suffer more than the the committee is as full of headstrong, inappropriate, and occasional ulcerous spasm of pain as a result of his affection contradictory opinions as the one that gathered at Ye Olde for red peppers. Cheshire Cheese that evening. They will be the death of him yet. Skilley was included in this delegation, as was Maldwyn. Ah—a bafﬂing side note to last evening’s events. Adele, After all, the letter under consideration concerned him most directly. the temperamental barmaid, recounted the strangest anecdote Pip patiently listened as nearly every member of the about that extraordinary blue cat. She saw it with “me own committee put forward a proposal—or two or three—for two blinkin’ eyes!” to quote the girl. She swears the cat ate a the wording of the message. stamp! A penny red! He licked it up, she reported, right off “Tell ’em to come quick.” the ﬂoor and, looking right pleased with himself, sauntered “Tell ’em he’s at The Cheese.” from the room. Perhaps to post himself to—whom? “Don’t forget to mention those most wicked cats what attacked him.” This gives me an idea for my story of the French “And tell ’em to bring fresh meat. Uh, Maldwyn told me Revolution. A letter, written in soot mixed with blood—Yes! to say that.” Oh my, I must return to it immediately, while my thoughts are “I did not!” still clear. “Yes, you did. Just now.” “No, I didn’t.” “Then what did you say?” Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 146

“Erm, I said… Dash it all!” cursed Maldwyn. “What’s “It will have to do,” said Pip. “I’ve already addressed wrong with fresh meat? I haven’t had any in ages. I’m sick the envelope you took from Henry’s desk. I think we have to death of suet.” everything we need now.” “And while we’re on the subject, what about tellin’ As a tiny mouse with little more than wits and a tail, ’em to get rid of all mouse traps in London, eh?” he should have felt daunted by the challenge. He had “And…” prepared himself, however, for this moment. “And…” Every mouse has a destiny, Pip thought. Perhaps this is why I Pip listened. He secretly discarded the suggestions that was spared on that black day in the onion bin. had no place in a formal letter to the White Tower, especially “Pip!” Skilley roused him from his thoughts and those referring to the abolition of mouse traps, hawks, and spurred him on to the task at hand. cats—such requests would only muddle the message. The mouse squared his shoulders. He dipped the tip In the end, Pip knew that it would be up to him to of his tail in the thimble of India ink, tapped it against the compose the letter. For what was left of the evening, he rim, and approached the sheet of paper. puzzled over what to say. The following morning he was The others watched anxiously. still mulling over every word, arranging and rearranging “Just write the important words,” urged Skilley. “And until each had found its perfect place. hurry. I’m more worried than ever about Pinch. He’s taken At last the words were ready to be set to the scrap of to following me about. It may not be long before he brown paper Nudge and Too had wrestled up the stairs comes snifﬁng up here.” and into the garret. “Let him,” squawked Maldwyn. “We’ll see how he fares “It’s a bit stained,” apologized Nudge, “but it was the without his cutthroat comrades.” best we could ﬁnd.” “Hush,” said Pip. “Be still now, everyone, while I “Is that blood?” asked Skilley, screwing up his face in think.” He closed his eyes and pictured the note. In his disgust. mind it read thus: “It was wrapped about a bit of beef,” explained Nudge, “but there’s plenty of room left for the words.”

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To the Yeoman Warder and Ravenmaster “Yes, yes. I’ll get to all that.” At last Pip began, carefully forming each letter with the appropriate curl or curve or dash Esteemed Sir, or dot, stopping only for the requisite trips to the inkwell. The raven Her Majesty believes kidnapped is “Are you done yet?” asked Maldwyn, who had settled alive and safe at Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese of himself among some old rags in a corner of the room. “No. I’ve only just written the salutation.” Fleet Street, where he recovers from a vicious “What?” cried Skilley. “We need to ﬁnish this while attack by a band of alley cats. Come alone, as Victoria is still on the throne. Just put down the important parts!” we are afraid a crowd would alarm him. “You don’t understand,” explained Pip. “There is more If possible, bring a few pounds of fresh to writing than tossing down a few haphazard words; meat, as he has not had anything but table words must have context.” “Huh?” grunted the three onlookers, followed by Too’s scraps for a good long while and would pay a high-pitched “Erh?” king’s ransom for some decent victuals. “Context. Ummmm…” Pip gave his ear a scratch. “Well, you see, words have to be in the right place in order A thousand thanks in advance, to have meaning. You need to know where they’ve been, A Friend and where they’re going. You wouldn’t just eat a piece of cheese without knowing where it’s been, would you?” He opened his eyes, dipped his tail once again, tapped it “I would,” said Nudge. on the edge of the thimble— “So would I,” added Skilley. “Get on with it, then!” said Skilley. “What about the fresh meat?” cried Maldwyn. “Tell them to hurry,” squeaked Too. Pip opened his mouth. “And don’t forget the part about the fresh meat,” Then closed it. nagged Maldwyn. Opened it. “And to come alone,” whispered Nudge. Closed it again. 148 149 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 150

Lowering his chin to his chest, he released a shudder- “Ummm. Treacle?” suggested Nudge. ing sigh and then returned to the note. Pip shook his head. “Too messy.” “Please,” urged Skilley again, “can’t you go faster?” “Honey?” said Maldwyn. “You could bring the ink closer, if you really wish to “Too sticky. And it would attract flies.” help,” said Pip, becoming a bit testy. But it was now Skilley’s turn for brilliance. The image “Why are you making the letters so big? Why not the of Pinch with shredded newspaper stuck to his side size they are in the newspaper?” flashed into his mind. “A little spit and wheat flour from “Because that’s not the way the humans do it, and we the kitchen should do the trick,” he said. want it to appear authentic. Now let me—” “Too’ll fetch the flour,” offered the smallest mouse. “I…I…I’ve got an idea!” shouted Nudge, his face “Come, Nudge.” suddenly convulsed with enthusiasm. After all, from Pip was loath to leave off the writing, as it was so enjoy- his dim mind ideas were rare, and therefore all the able. Still, his friends were right to be concerned; it was more precious. “Why don’t we just use the words from taking a long time. Despite a nagging misgiving, he gave in the newspaper? Cut them out. Put them on the page. to their persuasion. Wouldn’t that be faster?” “All right,” he finally conceded. “I’ll select the words. “Uh…” Pip looked longingly at the inkwell, then Come with me, Maldwyn. Please?” glanced back to the inviting sheet of paper. In his excited state, the raven had no problem obeying “That’s brilliant!” exclaimed Skilley. “That way we can the orders from this mouse. A plan of action, at long last! all work together. Pip, you choose the words. Maldwyn It worked as a tonic. Maldwyn was almost spry as he can snip them out with his beak—” skipped and hobbled after Pip to the pile of newsprint out “I prefer to use my talons for delicate tasks—” on the landing. “Yes, yes. Talons, then,” agreed Skilley. “And good old Nudge and I can put the scraps of paper in place.” “But there’s a problem with your clever proposal,” Pip objected. “What’s to keep the words on the page?”

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paper on which lay the dozens of words so painstakingly arranged. In his wake, they floated down willy-nilly, like CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE so much lexicographical confetti. As they came to rest on the blood-spattered paper, they found a new (and unin- tended) order. Pip, nose down and oblivious to all else, scurried over the But Skilley’s disbelief at the startling announcement page, marking each word with an ink-swipe of his tail. was crowding out all his other senses. “Nell?” he gulped. While Maldwyn enthusiastically attacked those portions No one answered him. selected, Pip scanned ahead. “Nell?” This time he directed his question at Too. Too and Nudge, who had returned with a cloud of “Nell.” The young mouse sighed. “She was good to flour piled high on an old button, joined the brigade. Too.” It became their task to rush the scraps of paper into the “Was? So she is dea—?” garret, where Skilley placed them on the page in the precise “You want to see her?” order Pip sent them. “NO! Uh, well…” Skilley tried to stifle the alarm in Finally, Pip cried, “There! That’s the last of it.” He peeked his voice. He had no desire to meet a ghost face-to-face. through the door. “Wait! You haven’t begun pasting them “Later. Perhaps. We’ve, er, got to finish this letter. And it yet, have you?” He rushed around the page. “Oh! You looks a mess now, doesn’t it?” haven’t. Good. I’ll just do a final reading—” This drew everyone’s attention to the paper. “Um, Pip?” called a mouse from the top of the stairs. “They’re all there, aren’t they?” snapped Maldwyn, his His black eyes were open so wide they made him look impatience reaching Olympian heights. “Let’s get on with rather comical—or alarmed—or both. it, then.” “What is it?” asked Pip, suddenly worried. Too dutifully emptied the flour onto the floor next to “It’s Nell. She’s…here.” the letter, and Maldwyn was only too eager to provide the Delighted, Pip took to his heels without a backward spit. Everyone soon got into the spirit of the thing, and glance. In his haste, he tore straight across the brown before long, the task was completed. Only Skilley showed

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concern as all gathered “Well,” Skilley said. “We’d best put it in the envelope around the paper to and close it up. Do we have enough flour to paste it shut?” survey their handi- “No, no,” Maldwyn said. “It must be done properly. work. I’ve seen the Ravenmaster do this often enough. Bring the “Are we sure it candle closer.” still says all those “The candle?” asked Skilley. things we discussed?” “He’s gonna burn it!” cried Too, tugging at her ears. he asked. But the raven had no intention of burning the letter that “Close enough, was to be the instrument of his salvation. Instead, he lifted I guess,” answered Nudge. the candle with his claw and tilted it just enough to drip “But what’ll we do with the leftover a small mound of wax onto the flap of the envelope. bits?” Too asked, playing with the snippets of newspaper “Hold it closed!” he commanded. still scattered over the floor. While the wax was still “Just stick ’em on the page,” Nudge said. “Except warm and yield- maybe those little ones. And that one there—I don’t like ing, he firmly the look of it.” pressed his claw “Oh, just sweep them between the floorboards,” into its center. squawked Maldwyn. “Who’s to know?” “There,” he And that’s what they did. said. “Now let’s Skilley again squinted at the paper, holding a paw over get it to the post!” one eye, then the other, trying to extract meaning from the strange black marks. Had he been able, this is what he would have read, perhaps with a sense of misgiving:

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CHAPTER FORTY CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

“What the—?” Skilley’s fur rose along his back like “Cat? Cat!” There was a desperate concern in the voice that hedgehog quills. Too confirmed Skilley’s worst fears with pulled Skilley from his swoon. As he regained conscious- a single cry, “Nell!” ness, he realized it was no ghostly figure that summoned The girl was framed in the garret doorway, the setting him. Skilley looked up into Nell’s face. To his expanding sun shining brightly through a dormer window behind relief it was made up entirely of flesh and blood. her. For a moment, Skilley was hypnotized by the golden “Pip!” the girl exclaimed. “He’s come ’round at last.” vision. Then—as stalwart a fellow as he was proving to Pip scuttled close to Skilley. The mouse’s nose wrig- be—he nonetheless gave in to a most unheroic faint. gled and twitched. “Oh, dear,” he whispered, furrowing his brow. “Whatever overcame you?” “N-Nell.” Skilley nearly choked on the name, not quite as recovered as he thought. “Yes, this is Nell.” “I thought she was dead,” Skilley said. “Dead? Why Nell’s not dead, she’s been living in Chessington. You thought…” The corner of Pip’s mouth quivered, and his prodigious teeth made concealing the grin out of the question. “But you said she was…” “I’m sure I never did…” Pip shook his head so vigorously his ears made a soft flapping sound. Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 158

“If she wasn’t…isn’t…dead,” demanded an adamant We are never to know what heights the girl might Skilley, “then what about the tears, and all that ‘poor Nell’ have attained in Pip’s estimation for he stopped mid- business each time the girl’s name was mentioned?” sentence when his eye fell on the envelope lying but a few “Poor Nell she is.” Pip’s tone was mirthless now. “She’s feet away. been banished, sent to live with her aunt in the country “You sealed the letter? Oh, dear me, I would have and only allowed home for short visits. Henry is preferred to read through it once—” convinced that being at the inn will provoke another “Oh, we did. I mean, it’s all there. Just like you crisis of nerves.” Pip’s voice was a whisper, as though he instructed.” Skilley didn’t mention the scraps that had feared Nell might hear and comprehend. “They think been swept beneath the floor. It would just worry Pip, and she’s barmy.” his new friend already indulged in enough fretful wash- “Well, is she? Is she barmy?” Skilley found himself ing and grooming. whispering back. All this, of course, sounded like nothing Having nestled Maldwyn in a corner with a bit of more than purring and twittering to Nell, who by now sugar she produced from her apron pocket, Nell settled to had turned her attention to the ailing Maldwyn. the floor. She invited the two animals onto her lap. “The “Indeed she is not!” Pip was indignant. “She simply pair of you seems to be getting along quite nicely.” She confided a secret, you see, to the wrong person.” touched Pip’s nose with a light finger. “Trust you, Pip, to “Secret?” tame a cat.” “She told Adele about me.” Skilley squinted up at the girl, not altogether pleased Skilley glanced at the girl. “And then?” This was not at with her assessment of the situation. all the story he’d expected. Nell shifted her legs to a more comfortable position. “Well, Adele told Croomes, and Croomes told Henry, “Now what’s this?” and Henry consulted two physicians and a midwife’s She reached for the letter with its crimson stamp and sister-in-law. Their collective advice was to send her forth- the address Pip had so painstakingly penned earlier that with to the country for a rest cure. A rest cure, mind you. day. This caused Pip to grow quite agitated. To an aunt with ten children and no governess. But you’ll “What are you chattering on about, Pip?” never hear Nell complain. Our Nell’s a—” In answer, the mouse abandoned her lap and crossed 158 159 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 160

the floor to the thimble of ink. He dipped his tail and hurried back to Nell. POST? She stretched out her hand as was their habit, and Pip wrote across her palm, You want me to post this for you?” Her forehead wrinkled in an expression of mild worry. Pip wrapped his tail around her finger and gave her an MINE. imploring look. “Very well,” she sighed. “I don’t suppose much harm “Is it, now?” Nell raised her brows in mock surprise. could come from it.” And so it was that another gatekeeper “I knew I’d regret teaching you your letters.” allowed the letter to continue its journey unchecked. Pip chattered in protest. Maldwyn gave a soft ravenly grunt of relief. He had “No, no. I am proud of you. But what’s this? You’ve abandoned his nest of comfortable rags to rest himself sealed it.” She inspected the envelope closely, then turned against Nell’s leg. She stroked the smooth feathers between her attention to the raven. “You’ve had a hand—um, talon— his eyes, and he didn’t snap at her. in this, too, I see. Now, I’m more than a trifle tempted to She’s sweet, this one, Skilley thought as she scratched behind steal a peek.” She tapped the letter against her chin. his left ear, but she’s odd, even for a human. Then he did what This suggestion was met with more emphatic chittering. all cats do under similar circumstances. He yawned and “I surrender! After all, a mouse that can read and write stretched and flexed his claws oh so carefully… must have good reason to send a letter to”—she read the His drowsy gaze passed over the top of the stairs. address out loud—“The Tower of London?” Now she Pinch was there. halted. “Pip, are you sure of what you’re doing?” And then he vanished. Pip wished he could explain it all to her in human “What in the name of heaven was that?” asked Nell. talk; instead, he scrambled to her other hand and scrawled “He’s seen Maldwyn,” Skilley hissed to Pip. a second word. This one was a request. A hurried trip back to the thimble of ink. Another scribble. This time on the back of her hand. Nell read it aloud as she scrambled to her feet.

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CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

The next day, Nell stood in the hallway alongside her traveling trunk, looking forlorn. She lifted Pip out of her pocket. “So it’s farewell, again, dear Pip.” Pip wiped his eyes. The fur along his snout was damp from tears. “I scarcely slept from worry about all of you.” Nell bit her lip and looked about the hallway before continuing. “My auntie’s house is so far away and the raven’s wing is healing poorly. Then there’s that ginger cat of Adele’s; he is a devil, I’m sure of it. Stay clear of him. Promise me, Pip.” Pip gave Nell a reassuring squeak just as her father appeared. The mouse instantly retreated into Nell’s pocket. When the innkeeper pulled his daughter into a tight bear hug, Pip curled into a tiny ball, fearful of being crushed. “My dearest Nell,” Henry said in a sad tone that showed more of his fatherly concern than words could convey. “Get better soon and return to us in good health. This place is much too dull without you.” The girl stretched her own arms about her rotund father, then pulled away and looked him in the eyes. Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 164

“I am better, Papa. I was never unwell. If only you would glorious rebellion, swiveled and took the steps back up believe me. Pip really can communicate—” to the hallway with a vengeance. “Of course he can. I believe you.” These unlikely “You’re staying, then?” Her face split into a smile, all words of solidarity came from Croomes. So surprising gums and teeth. was this statement from the cook that Pip risked poking “She is not staying,” said Henry. the top of his head out of Nell’s pocket. “Father—” Adele stood silently at the larger woman’s side. “I will not be gainsaid,” The cook handed Nell something wrapped in a nap- growled Henry. kin and added, “This here’s some victuals for your jour- “But Father…” ney, miss. I’m that sorry for the trouble I caused you.” Henry’s eyes unwillingly With an uncharacteristic dab at her eyes, she turned away. met Nell’s. His gaze was held As Croomes passed Henry, she muttered, “You cold- by a stubborn look so famil- hearted oafstool.” She elbowed Adele aside and shambled iar that it broke his heart. back toward her kitchen, her broad shoulders drooping. “You can send me back It was Adele’s turn to embrace the girl. “You’ll be yer- for a month or a year, self soon, miss. Small wonder you think them mouses is Father. Sane or mad, talkin’ to you, with ’em overrunnin’ the place. Sometimes I am what I am. I think I hear ’em meself. Ne’er you mind. It’s a new game I have been a now that me Oliver is ’ere, innit?” terrible trial to Nell stiffened, then shook herself out of the barmaid’s Aunt Edith and arms. Her naturally cheerful and radiant face took on a I must confess dark look. “Father.” Her voice was firm. “I will not be that I was not a returning to Auntie’s. I’m going upstairs to unpack my good guest while things.” The usual warmth in her voice was absent. under her roof. Everyone began to speak at once, and Croomes, who “I unrepentantly had been halfway down the stairs when she heard Nell’s continued my rescue 164 Nell Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:07 PM Page 166

of unfortunate creatures. The day she discovered the snake back into her room upstairs, he wandered into the kitchen in her chamber pot, she confined herself to bed for looking for scraps. There he found the barmaid in a rather a week. one-sided conversation with a cleaver. “So you see, dearest Father, it would be most unfair “Me auntie indeed! I saw right through that ’oodwink. of you to continue to press upon your sister a child that She means to save ’er chatterin’ mice. Talk, dance—I don’t is as unchangeable and unremorseful care if they can cure the pox, they’re filthy mouses, and as your Nell.” now Croomes ’as gone soft for ’em, too. But you ’aven’t “You,” said Henry, gone soft, ’ave you, my pet? ” she cooed, addressing the leaning forward and cleaver in her hand. Then, with a single swing of the tapping her on the newly sharpened blade, she savaged a perfectly blameless forehead, “are just cabbage. like your mother.” “And it’s high time you recognized it, too,” said “They’re cooking up something particularly nasty,” Croomes. Skilley said. “I’m sure of it.” “They?” asked Pip. “They,” Skilley answered. “Pinch and Adele.” “That’s absurd! Adele?” It was Adele, however, “Aye, Adele. That girl’s not right. You should have seen who had the last words her swing that cleaver. And now that Pinch knows of on the matter. Maldwyn, the raven is in as much danger as the day he fell No one heard out of the sky. I know Pinch, and he will be determined them but Skilley. While to finish what he started that day in the alley; he won’t everyone else was be satisfied until he tastes Maldwyn’s blood.” helping Nell settle “Well, we’ve already decided we can’t move him,” Pip

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C . D i c k e n s said. “He’s too feeble. Besides, Nell has managed to block the door with an old chest from the attic.” Still, Skilley’s streetwise sense of danger, that sixth I attempt to write. Yet each day my thoughts drift sense that judged every situation by calculating risk, chill- further and further from my own tale. I am now consumed ingly placed the odds in Pinch’s favor. with curiosity about the comings and goings of the animals of this inn. I feel as if some great mischief were about to befall them all. Nevertheless, there is good news. Nell’s unjust banishment has ended, and her presence lightens the air in this place. Still, I despair. The deadline for my first issue of ALL THE YEAR ROUND looms and as yet I have no opening line... The ginger cat has just crept from behind the chop house drapery and appears to be shadowing the blue— No! I must, must, attend to my own work today.

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Mr. Dickens kept him company, taking his usual seat by that same window, his notebook always open and his pen CHAPTER FORTY-THREE in hand as if expecting some brilliant notion to strike him at any moment. And yet, he wrote little. At times he walked the inn, looking ﬁrst in one room and then in another. What happened next in the inn took Pip and Skilley by Twice Croomes removed him from the kitchen. surprise. By the end of that week, the only truly unusual occur- Nothing. rence Pip had witnessed was the arrival of a stranger. At. That in itself wasn’t so very unusual, as strangers often All. came to the inn. But this man wore a heavy cloak and At least nothing out of the ordinary and certainly not the a drover’s hat pulled down to cover his face. That, too, thing that Pip had hoped for. wasn’t unusual—it was, after all, still winter, and a cold The letter had been posted. rain rattled through the streets, gusting sheets of frigid Nell had decided to stay. water throughout the storm-tossed city. Adele and Pinch continued their unholy confederacy. What was unusual was that the man didn’t remove his And still the Ravenmaster did not come. hat and cloak. He did not uncover his face. He did not seek He did not come after one day. a seat close to the ﬁre. Rather, he settled himself in the He did not come after three days. corner and slouched down into an unmoving lump, not He did not come after a whole week of days. even ordering a pint when Nell offered. If they hadn’t entrusted the letter to Nell, they would She glanced at Mr. Dickens. Catching his gaze, she cocked have feared the task had been bungled. her head in the direction of the stranger as if to ask, “What do In his impatience Pip took to stationing himself within you make of ’im?” the fronds of a potted palm near the chop room window. Dickens answered with an indifferent shrug, but his From this post he watched and waited for the arrival of eyes, bright with curiosity, told a different story. a carriage bearing the emblem of the White Tower. Pip turned his attention to the goings-on outside of

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the inn. This was good, as otherwise he would have missed the shuttered carriage that rattled to a stop in front of Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese. Its swaying gradually CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR subsided, but no one disembarked. Its driver huddled beneath his oilskin, proof against the driving rain. Pip glanced back and forth between the stranger in What happened next is difficult to relate, and even more the room and the carriage outside. There was something difficult to believe for those who did not witness the strange suspicious in the attitude of both (if a carriage could happenings that day. It was as if the devil’s own lieutenant adopt an attitude). had broken loose and spread chaos throughout the Cheese. Pip shivered, partly with the wet and dreary cold, and As volcanic events often do, however, they began with partly from premonition. only a rumble. A rumble named Adele. While Pip stared out the window, his interest in the carriage flagging, he witnessed a bundled-up Adele scurrying toward him through the stinging rain, a brown- paper parcel clutched to her chest. She’d been off to fetch Henry’s shirts from the laundress (and also to visit a certain coal man along the way, else why brave the storm for a few clean shirts?). She slowed as she neared that very carriage, and stopped to look up at the sodden driver. Ever the snoop, she tried to peek in a shuttered window. Without warning, the driver came to life and snapped his whip at her. 172 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:08 PM Page 174

She yelled something up to the man that Pip couldn’t The man ignored Mr. Dickens’s sarcasm; rather, quite make out; in response, the driver’s eyes widened responding to some unimaginable sight outside, he and his jaw loosened, which caused him to drop the released a half-whispered oath. This was followed by a stub of a cigar he’d had clutched in his teeth. She left him cry—“No! She wouldn’t!”—and a headlong dash toward hacking and wiping his trousers. the pub’s entrance. Adele burst into the chop room. “What’s all that, Adele joined Mr. Dickens, then?” she cried. “Imagine, a fine carriage such as that and they looked to the outside the Cheese?” She dropped the parcel on a table street. Pip peered between and shook off her cloak, scattering rainwater upon the the fronds of the palm. sawdust and wooden planks. The carriage door “You’d better mop that up,” demanded Henry. “Some- opened, and out one’s sure to take a tumble.” stepped a short, stout “But, ’oo d’you think is in the carriage, eh?” woman, a gauzy veil “What do I care for carriages that bring me no busi- covering her face. She ness?” Henry snapped. The weather was making him was followed by sev- cross, which didn’t help Adele’s mood either. eral gentlemen arrayed She picked up the parcel of shirts and flung it at the in traveling cloaks and landlord’s head. “Get yer own shirts next time, then! beaver hats—very stiff-look- I’s only curious.” ing gentlemen who followed the At last, the figure in the corner raised his head to woman as if attached by an invisible thread. Last to speak. “It’s no one,” he said. “Don’t mind the carriage.” emerge was a squat man with a wild wisp of gray hair He stood and strode to the window by Mr. Dickens’s table. that stood up from his bare head and refused to give in to “Pardon me, sir.” His cloak brushed the writer’s leg as the drenching rain. he looked out past Pip and the potted plant. This gentleman scurried before the woman, begging, “Certainly,” said Mr. Dickens. “A fine day for a ride in entreating, his gestures expressing clear exasperation. the city, isn’t it?” His voice suggested the contrary. The woman turned her face to his and stopped all 174 175 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:08 PM Page 176

further protests with a single withering glance. She A stifled snort was heard from Dickens. then redirected the glance, and herself, to the inn’s door. The visitor turned to the man on the floor. “We tired Her humbled entourage followed. of waiting.” With great curiosity, Adele rushed toward that door, He scrambled to his feet. “B-B-But I haven’t yet too, but she slipped in the puddle of rainwater she herself secured your safety.” had brought in with her cloak. Her feet shot up above her Meanwhile, Mr. Dickens crossed the room and offered shoulders, her skirt flew over her head, and she landed a hand to Adele. With a guilty glance toward Henry, she on her bottom with a thump and a curse and a clattering deftly shoved the coins back into her pocket before rising. of coins that spilled from her pocket. The stranger in the Mr. Dickens turned to the woman visitor and bowed. slouch hat, backing away from the new arrivals, tripped “Good afternoon, Your Majesty. What brings you to over Adele. He fell sprawling to the floor, losing the hat Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese on such an intemperate day and much of his dignity in the process. as this?” The woman from the carriage stood over the two figures at her feet. “My dear,” she said to Adele, “is that the proper way to welcome guests?” “I—oh—beggin’ yer pardon, mum.” With a frantic hand she scrabbled to gather up the coins. “I am, as you can see, a…a…fallen woman.” Adele’s innocent reply brought the room to a standstill. Mr. Dickens turned to inspect a portrait he seemed to find suddenly quite captivating. The lady addressed Adele. Her words were as carefully chosen as the young woman’s had been slapdash. The voice held a mixture of reproof and, possibly, of humor. “It would be wise in future, my child, to place your words more judiciously than you have your foot; a woman who has fallen must never be mistaken for a fallen woman.” Queen Victoria 176 177 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:08 PM Page 178

Pip could hear her cries fading as she descended the stairs CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE toward the kitchen. The Queen watched the barmaid go with a frown of disapproval—after all, the girl had not been given leave to depart the Royal Presence. But, fortunately for Adele, Behind the veil, Queen Victoria’s voice momentarily the Queen had weightier concerns at present. She turned warmed in recognition and surprise. her royal attention back to the remaining occupants “Mr. Dickens, is it not? If We recall you properly, that of the room. is, from your brilliant performance before Our Person.” Her Majesty. This time, Dickens gave the deepest, most elegant bow The words sank into Pip’s whirligig of a brain. of his life. “Welcome to the ﬁnest inn in the realm, Your But, wait! Did she say jewel? Majesty.” What jewel? The lady, remembering her purpose, had a quick and Good heavens, was she speaking of Maldwyn? hot retort: “And the hiding place of a jewel of that self- And what was that about a…a ransom? same realm—which belongs to Us. A jewel that was stolen by brigands and is even now being held for ransom.” She paused. Impatiently waving aside offers of aid, she removed her veil. “There’ll be no more need of this.” Divested of her head covering, she appeared for all the company as the beloved and familiar face on the penny red stamp. Adele whimpered. Mr. Dickens rescued her elbow, along with the rest of the girl, who managed a poorly executed half curtsey before she turned on her heel and raced from the room.

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Even muddleheaded Henry had balked at this theory. “Cheese thieves, you say?” The question was followed by CHAPTER FORTY-SIX a snort. “Ay, I do say!” was the cook’s scalding retort. “And when I nab ’em, I’ll give each and every one a good roasting!” Unaware of the scene being played out in the chop room, Oh, she had her suspicions, and they had festered. Skilley was ascending the cellar stairs when he heard She had conﬁded them to Skilley one day while hold- a rumbling tread on the steps above. Silent as only a cat ing him up by the scruff of the neck. Each theory can be, he backed away into the cellar’s gloom and hid she proposed was punctuated with a vigorous shake. himself beside a cask of claret. Young Jack, the potboy, certainly had the heavy brow of Croomes’s heavy foot nearly crushed his tail as she a criminal, she’d said. And Gertie, the under cook, had passed. Skilley retreated further into the shadows. The expanded about the waist as if she had taken on a richer cook was muttering to herself and he caught a fragment diet of late. of her soliloquy. “Chuzzlewitted clodpates!” she’d ranted. “They’ve no “I’ll not have it, I won’t! Rid The Cheese of every respect for an artist. Me cheese is the ﬁnest in London, mouse, she says? And, then what? Bring down ruin and ain’t it? And a few cheese-stealing mice I don’t mind, do penury on all our heads? Rattlebrained girl! I’ll have to do I?” Here her gaze had bored into Skilley, and she’d sniffed something about that Adele…” at his whiskers. “Nor a strange cat like you, eh? I let ’em Skilley listened, confused. What was the cook going have their bit of cheese, and in their turn them grateful on about now? It’s true, Croomes had been in a fretful mice—” But she’d bitten off the end of the peculiar state- mood of late. She had taken to accusing thieves of being ment before Skilley could learn what it was the mice did in the larders. Thieves, mind you, who had no interest in for Croomes in their turn. And what had she meant about pewter or lockets or Henry’s silver. Only cheese. Still, she him? Could she possibly have guessed? had realized the folly of blaming the cats. And since This inn has more secrets than mice, he thought. the mice only took their portion—as ever they had—she Skilley returned to the present when he heard the rattle concluded there must be a band of robbers on the loose of keys…and the click of a lock. bent on pinching her legendary Cheshire. He peeked ’round the wine cask. 181 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:08 PM Page 182

The door to the cheese room swung open under Skilley watched them disappear, then glanced at the Croomes’s hand, and then the turgid cook shuffled inside. dim light coming from the open and welcoming cheese- The light from her candle faded to a weak glow. room door. Out drifted the mouthwatering aroma of Cheshire He hesitated, his eyes on the steps. cheese. One minute. Skilley’s nose twitched. If only she would leave the door open Two. when she comes out, he thought. Satisfied that they were not coming back, Skilley crept A minute passed. from his hiding place, sniffing the air. A fragrance like “Cook!” A breathless Adele, hair loosened from its pins, incense filled the room, from the stone slabs to the arched came down the stair steps two at a time. “Come quick!” ceiling. Croomes emerged carrying a round of cheese under Ah! Cheeeeeeeese. her arm. “Egad, girl!” growled the mountain of a woman. Its pungent aroma beckoned him through the open door. “You’ve about startled me out of me pantaloons. Collect He paused for a half breath, then softly padded inside. yourself.” “But, Cook, only come quick. Someone’s ’ere. And you’ll never guess. Not in a ’undred ’undred years!” She bent close and whispered words that Skilley couldn’t make out. Croomes nearly lost her grip on the round of Cheshire cheese. “You’re jesting!” “It’s true, mum! I swear it!” Adele cried. Croomes must have believed her, for she lurched toward the stairs with a quickness one would have thought impossible in a being of her age and lumpish form. Adele followed close on her heels. 182 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:08 PM Page 184

tail a useless hook. Yet that hapless moment had never CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN been the true reason for his loathing. Bitter memories are like things behind locked doors, thought Skilley. Dark things that rattle the door handles, whisper your name through the keyholes, and tear at the wood with their fingernails.They Skilley stared openmouthed at the shelves and tables want to be released to do their terrible work: the work of making you stacked high with wheel upon wheel of Cheshire cheese. remember things best left forgotten. On the other side of the room, old door panels lying When Skilley’s hidden memories burst through their across trestles bowed under the weight of their golden restraints, they paralyzed his mind with fear. He gave in to burdens. a loosening of his limbs and slid to the floor. As the dark- Gro-o-o-o-an. ness pressed in on him, Skilley remembered his first friend. Slam! The boy was much thinner than the others at the Skilley spun toward the firmly latched door. workhouse, but he was tall. His fingers could just reach “Who’s out there?” he demanded. the half-starved kitten He was answered by a spiteful voice. “Never mind mewing on the frozen who’s out ’ere. It’s you who’s in there, eh? And it’s your windowsill of their dor- friends who’ll pay dear for it. That dimwitted barmaid ’as mitory. The boy had hid- moved a certain chest back from a partic’lar door. An’ den the shivering animal what d’you suppose she found? But don’t worry. She left in his grimy nightshirt and ’im for me. But smaller matters first.” climbed onto his thread- Driven by anger and fear, Skilley dashed himself bare pallet, where they had against the unyielding oak planks. warmed one another until I hate doors! morning. He had named the He paced. He growled. He spat. kitten Skilley, after the thin por- It was a carelessly slammed door that had made of his ridge the two shared, scarcely

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enough food for one. The child kept them from starving with crusts of bread and bits of cheese he stole from the CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT kitchen. Boy and kitten were never apart; for two blissful weeks Skilley lived, undetected, inside the boy’s shirt. Until the night the child was caught thieving cheese. And Skilley was discovered. “Majesty, I’m sure there’s no such skullduggery as that Skilley could still hear the boy’s wails and protests as here at The Cheese. And certainly no brigands nor jew- he was torn from his arms and ﬂung onto the street. He els,” said Henry with a fawning bow. The astonishing could still see the door that had cost him his only friend. events of the past half hour had left him mute ’til now. No! Not his only friend— Nonetheless, he was to prove himself an innkeeper, Pip! through and through. “But we are well-known for our Skilley’s eyes snapped open. excellent cheese. If Your Majesty and your party would care to take a table…perhaps upstairs in a private room?” “We, sir, are not here for the cheese. We are here for the raven.” The voice, regal in its use of plural pronouns, caused Henry to shrink back a step. “Raven? Oh, dear. We don’t serve raven. But, if—” “No, no, no.” The Queen closed her eyes; this gesture was accompanied by an almost inaudible moan. “Silence!” the man in the cloak barked at Henry. Oh dear, Pip thought. While all attention was focused on Queen Victoria, as beﬁtted her station and the strange occasion, Pip crept from the potted palm, scurried across the table,

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and dropped to the ﬂoor. He drew a deep breath before he darted toward a hole in the far wall. Just before he reached that safety, he heard an imperious query: CHAPTER FORTY-NINE “Is that a mouse?”

Skilley, imprisoned with the most glorious cheese in all of England, had lost his appetite. Once he regained control of his senses, he charged the door repeatedly, but in vain. He jumped shelves and tables, searched the walls, and inspected the beams and stone. There seemed to be countless crevices and cracks, but none big enough for a cat to squeeze through. “Pip!” he cried at each hole. “Nudge! Too! Anyone!” Please, someone answer. Frantic, he once again ﬂung himself at the recalcitrant door, but the infernal thing would only obey the latch. “Uh, Skilley, sir?” It was Nudge. He’d crept down through the ceiling and was sitting on a shelf,smoothing his whiskers with a paw. Skilley could hear a soft smacking sound. Was the fellow …eating? Though Croomes’s stub of a candle had burned itself out, leaving only the ribbon of light beneath the door, Skilley had little difﬁculty piercing the darkness with his cat’s eyes. “I heard you calling.” More chewing. “Did you get hold of Cook’s keys, then? Darned clever of you.” 188 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:08 PM Page 190

“I did not get hold of Cook’s keys,” Skilley snapped. “You’re not?” Really, when these mice tasted cheese they seemed to lose He shook his head again. all reason. “I’m trapped and Pinch has something foul in “You are?” mind! You must warn Pip—fly, Nudge, fly!” “N-no. Yes. Just a bit woozy. There’s something important—but what? Oh, my, I must rally my faculties.” Pip cradled his throbbing head with both paws. “Merciful heavens!” The head shot up. “We must go to him right Croomes and Adele reached the chop room in time to away!” hear the Queen’s cry: Is that a mouse? “Him? Him who?” With no other weapon at hand, Adele wrenched the “Maldwyn, my dearest Too. We must fetch him from round of cheese from Croomes’s grasp and hurled it at the garret and take him to the Queen—and there’s not Pip. It split against the ﬂoorboard and knocked Pip a moment to lose.” through the mouse hole. He hit the inside wall with But, in truth, that moment was already lost. A prac- enough force to send him bouncing back out of the hole ticed claw reached through the small opening and made and onto the ﬂoor, where he lay stunned for a second. a deft swipe. “Get ’im!” he heard Adele cry, followed by other “Pip!” wailed Too. shouts, and amidst the chaos, the snarl of a cat. Pip dashed to the wall, missed the hole, and banged his head again. He felt something grab his paw and yank him into the hole to safety. On the heels of this swift deliverance there came a weighty thump, as the pursuing cat hit the wood paneling. “Is Pip all right?” It was Too. He shook his head.

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“I couldn’t believe my eyes when I seen ’im with that CHAPTER FIFTY bird.” Pinch clamped the mouse’s tail in his teeth and gave Pip a good shaking, then let go, propelling the little creature across the hallway. Pip attempted once again to scramble away, but the Captured! cat snatched him up, bit down hard, then lunged down But how? the stairs. Speculation was useless. The fact remained that he was Pip winced with pain. securely and painfully clinched between Pinch’s powerful jaws. You must get loose, Pip. Once he gets you alone… Having accustomed himself to traveling in a cat’s Pip began to struggle against Pinch’s hold, kicking at mouth, the familiarity of it might have been a consolation. the cat’s front teeth with his hind legs, scratching at the But this foul-smelling chamber did not belong to Skilley. roof of his mouth with his front claws, but the cat only bit And Pip had no doubt that, unpleasant as it was, it would down harder, viciously pinning one of Pip’s legs with his soon be worse—Pinch’s mouth would become an abattoir front incisor. As the tooth lanced his thigh, Pip felt a radi- of blood, bone, and guts that would bear testament to his ating agony, followed by a blackening of his senses. own gruesome end. Pip felt himself sliding down the rough surface of the cat’s tongue, and then he landed on the stone floor with a thud. He scrambled to his feet and tried to run, but made no progress. He looked over his shoulder and saw He was just coming to when Pinch released him. that Pinch had a front paw firmly on his tail. And Pip realized he was falling. “I’m onto the unnatural dealin’s ’tween you and that His flailing limbs found nothing more substantial than one what calls himself a cat.” air to grasp as his eyes briefly met those of his tormentor. He lifted his paw, but the moment Pip began to run, An instant later the world was warm and wet and the cat gave him a cruel swat and sent him tumbling muffled. into the wall. He was under water. 193 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:08 PM Page 194

care when they choose lest they pick a quarrel with their betters, as you and your friends no doubt discovered that CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE night in the alley. That’s my mark across your brow, is it not?” “Shut your creaky gob!” Pinch took a step nearer. No doubt, that cursed crow thought he was safe here. “If you think me defenseless, your memory is duller Pinch savored the notion as he crouched in the door- than your wit.” Maldwyn tottered to his feet and clacked way of the garret. His hungry eyes devoured the darkness his sharp beak. “Come. Draw closer, if you dare.” in search of his prey. They locked on the raven, partly hid- Pinch accepted his invitation. den within his nest of rags. A cold, flinty eye stared back, The game was on. unblinking. Maldwyn had been expecting him ever since he’d heard Adele drag away the chest. Never one to underesti- mate an enemy, the raven had understood the calamitous situation from the onset. If he was frightened, he did not seem so. “You don’t belong here,” he said. His tone was dismissive. Pinch responded by drawing closer. “Do you know who I am?” croaked Maldwyn. It was more threat than question. At that, Pinch paced back and forth at a respectful distance from the bird. His tail snapped in rhythm to each step. “I never forget an unfinished meal,” he spat. “And I know you ’ave a friend in that coward, Skilley.” “Ah, that’s where you are wrong. Skilley is no coward. Cowards choose victims, not equals. But they should take 195 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:08 PM Page 196

Wasting little time, he swam along the sides of the blackened pot, but try as he might, he could find no CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO imperfection along its curved surface, no friendly dent to which he could grab hold. His wounded leg pulsed with pain. It was then he Water. noticed the scarlet thread of blood forming a long trail He thinks to drown me in a bucket of water! behind him. His breath came in shallow gasps now. Pip permitted himself to sink gently out of sight. Just stay afloat. Despite the throbbing of his injured leg, it took immense Someone will surely find you. effort to keep from smiling. Steam began to rise around him in wraithlike wisps. Brainless cat. Pip cautiously tested the side of the pot. He jerked back Doesn’t he know mice can swim? his seared paw and tried to hold down the rising panic. Mice can do more than swim. A mouse can hold his The iron had grown too hot to touch. breath under water for minutes at a time. Pip exhaled a small stream of bubbles and waited. The water was warm and soothing to his injured leg. But wait. Warm water? Pip arrested his descent. Turning, he paddled furiously upward. When he broke the surface, he found himself encir- cled by an unbroken wall of iron: Pinch had cast him into one of Croomes’s cooking pots. And judging by the temperature of the water, it would soon simmer, and then…? No, best not to think that far ahead.

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agitation as he grasped the dire nature of her news. Once CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE more he threw himself against the door. “I’m trapped, can’t you see! I’m too large—” In answer, Too wriggled through the narrow space beneath the door. “Skilley!” What the—? Skilley heard a rattling bounce. Standing “Too! Thank heaven.” on his hind legs, front paws against the door, he tried to “No, thank Nudge. He told me you were down here peek through the keyhole, but it was no good. eatin’ cheese. But Skilley-cat!” she cried as she clambered “What are you doing?” down from one shelf to another. “Pip needs you! Come “Too…trying…spring…latch…” She paused to take a quick, h-h-he’s…he’s—” deep breath. “Grrrr. Too not heavy enough. Wait here.” “He’s what? What is it?” Skilley asked. Wait? “Too? Please hurry.” But he knew. “What’s Pinch done?” “Cookeded Pip!” “Cooked him?” She scurried across the ﬂoor and pulled at Skilley’s paw. “Skilley-cat must save Pip. Oh, do come! He’ll soon be drownded. Or boileded…” “How? Where?” “In Cook’s pot! Where else would he get boileded?” she asked in exasperation. Too’s panic seemed to be getting the better of her. Her words hardly made sense. “Stay calm, Too,” Skilley said, although he felt a rising

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CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

Sweltering heat. Beyond all expectation, the cheese-room door swung open. Heat that made him feel like his blood, too, was in Skilley stared in openmouthed wonder at little Too, danger of boiling. who raced forward and tugged at his paw. Too hot…to struggle. “Hurry!” she urged. So easy…to let go. Then he saw the ﬁgure just outside the door, hand still His body growing weaker, Pip’s mind ﬂitted like a on the latch. honeybee from thought to thought. “And how did you get yourself locked in the cheese Maldwyn? What would become of him now? room?” Nell asked Skilley. She leaned down to address And Skilley. He should have told him…something…but he could Too. “Is this what had you so upset?” not remember what. Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:08 PM Page 202

Too began to chitter as Nell lowered herself onto one knee. Skilley didn’t wait to hear whether Too made herself CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX understood. There wasn’t time. He raced up the stairs toward the kitchen, and Pip. At the swinging door, a burst of noise from high above In two bounds Skilley was atop the chopping-block table stopped him. that stood next to Cook’s stove. “Now, what could that be?” Skilley wondered aloud. “Pip, are you all right?” he called. But he knew the answer. Silence was the heart-wrenching answer. Maldwyn. And Pinch. Skilley stepped on the stove. Skilley did not need to consider the choice before “Yeow!” He snatched back his left forefoot and tried him. He knew without a moment of doubt where his to lick the burn out of it. loyalty lay, where it would always lie. Turning his back on Despite the pain, he lunged at the lip of the pot with the terrible howls and squawks echoing from above, he his other paw. Hot, too. Hot, but bearable, though not for hurled himself through the kitchen door. long. With his hind legs braced on the wooden table, he “I’m coming, Pip!” he cried. pulled at the vessel. It teetered precariously, threatening to spill its contents onto the red-hot surface of the stove. That would not do. He stretched himself as far as he could. It was just enough to peek inside. Pip’s nose barely broke the surface of the steaming water; the slow pad- dling of his paws was hardly perceptible. Again the heat forced Skilley to pull back. He searched about. The walls. The ﬂoor. The ceiling overhead. Then he saw them. Mr. Thackeray’s peppers. 202 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:08 PM Page 204

They hung in a garland on a Pip’s terror was such that he did not immediately hook above the stove. Skilley release his feeble grasp on Skilley, even after he was laid leapt. on the ﬂagstones. He panted and trembled as his small His front paws clawed body cooled. through the peppers and caught “Skilley…” This was followed by a ﬁt of coughing. in the bit of rope that held them “Easy, Pip,” said Skilley. in place. He swung perilously “I-I…,” Pip sputtered. “Forgive me…” above the steaming pot. “Forgive you? Whatever for?” “My tail!” he cried to Pip, “For…for not forgiving you.” praying it was long enough. “Oh, Pip.” “Grab hold of my tail!” “There you are!” a breathless Nell cried. “I’ve been He lowered the offered appendage into the pot, inching looking for—oh, dear.” With a quick glance at the steam- himself down, further, further, further. The vapors from ing pot and Pip lying in a soggy heap, Nell’s eyes the shredded peppers made his eyes smart. He squinched narrowed with anger and comprehension. them closed. “That horrid cat did this, didn’t he?” she exclaimed, He felt nothing but a scalding sensation in his tail. gathering the mouse up in her gentle hands. “Pip! Grab hold!” He swished his tail about in search Now that Pip was safe, Skilley looked about for the of the weakening mouse. smaller mouse. “Pip!” “Where’s Too?” At last Skilley felt the faintest of tugs. “Hold on!” He blessed the Fates. It was the unnatural hook of his tail that allowed Skilley to scoop the mouse to safety.

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CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

“Too! No!” squarked Maldwyn. But Too was determined to avenge Pip. “Wicked, wicked beastie!” she cried as she raced across the floor toward Pinch. With a flying leap, she landed on the cat’s tail. Pinch stared back at her with a glint of amusement. He twitched his tail once, as if to flick her away. But she had a tight hold. And when she parted the fur and clamped her teeth down onto his tender flesh with all her might, he yowled in pain, and his amusement evaporated. “Argh!” He leapt around, but no amount of spinning and thrashing could dislodge the tiny mouse. “Too!” Maldwyn cried. Pinch slammed his tail to the floor. Her hold weakened. Unmindful of his own well-being, Maldwyn threw himself at the cat, but he was too late. With one whip-flick of his tail and a snap of his jaws, Too vanished. Shock and a rising grief drove Maldwyn to such heights of fury that Pinch found himself in retreat. As he backed toward the stair landing, Maldwyn again flew at the cat—beak stabbing, claws tearing. “Spit her out!” cried the raven. Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:08 PM Page 208

The man advanced a step, but Pinch’s snarling and clawing drove him back. From his pocket he produced a CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT pistol. “No!” shouted the woman in black. “You’ll chance harming the bird.” Then she turned an accusatory scowl on Henry. “How came you by a Tower raven?” Skilley left Pip with Nell and bounded into the chop room “I…I…I…,” was all Henry could get out. on his way to the garret—only to discover the path to the Pinch took a sideways lunge toward the raven. stairs blocked by a crowd of dumbfounded humans. He But Skilley stepped forward and blocked his path. “Stay chose a cautious route along the paneled wall. away from Maldwyn,” he growled. He took a step forward. In response, Pinch snarled out a string of curses. If the Then another. humans could have understood them, his obscenities Then— would have gained him his head on a pike, even in these “Get back!” warned Henry. enlightened times. At first Skilley thought the innkeeper was addressing him. “You’ll not bilk me out of me rights,” Pinch spewed. What followed, however, was a horrendous cawing “That bird is mine.” and snarling—and a rolling ball of black and ginger tum- “He’s certainly your match,” mocked Skilley, “as he’s bled down the stairs and into the room. half dead already.” The ball broke apart into… “I’ll take the other half if my hurrying him to a cat… St. Peter’s will bring you grief…” and a raven… Skilley spied the quiver in Pinch’s flank. Before Each bearing evidence of blood upon him. the other humans could respond, Pinch leapt toward Skilley dashed between the two. He directed his long, Maldwyn. low hissssssss at Pinch. “The ginger cat!” warned the Queen. “He’s for the raven!” “Maldwyn?” cried a man who clutched a slouch hat in But Skilley was faster. He landed hard on Pinch, claws his hands. The raven, though hurt and dazed, cocked his unsheathed, and knocked him to the floor. The two head and clacked his beak upon hearing his name. rolled through the sawdust, hissing and spitting. 209 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:08 PM Page 210

This distraction gave the Ravenmaster a chance to your filthy secret…” He scuttled away from Skilley, scoop the raven up in his arms. breathing heavily. “Get back!” warned Mr. Dickens. “The cats are squar- Now it was Skilley who paced back and forth, as if ing off!” daring Pinch to attack again. “It’s sick you make me,” Pinch croaked. “Befriendin’ “You eat cheese.” The words emerged from Pinch’s birds and mice, and gawd knows what manner o’ things. clenched jaws with a slow hiss. Things you’d be eatin’ if you was a proper cat. I know So, he knows. Skilley allowed himself an instant of surprise to savor how little he now cared. “Yes. I eat cheese. What’s more, my truest friend in this friendless world is a mouse. And I would risk my life for him, and for that bird—” “Traitor!” slavered Pinch. “Quick, stop them!” cried one of the humans. “Not me,” answered another. “I value me fingers.” Pinch leapt again. This time, his insane anger gave him an unexpected strength and speed. Skilley dodged, but this was no fishwife’s broom. Pinch’s claw raked his nose. Another vicious swipe ripped into his shoulder. Skilley cried out at the pain.

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“I’ve never eaten raven before. P’rhaps I’ll start with his CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE good eye,” goaded Pinch. In his rage he hadn’t noticed that Maldwyn was safely out of his reach. Skilley slashed with his own paw, ripping a swath down Pinch’s back. But his adversary was beyond feeling Nell emerged from the kitchen to join the other humans. now. He frothed and foamed. He struck with venom, Pip, upon hearing the horrendous snarls and shouts, wrapping his claws around Skilley’s neck. struggled to peep over the top of her pocket. He saw “See,” Pinch ground out, “I’ve just had a lovely mouse immediately the insatiable loathing for Skilley that was snack. You can smell the little ’un still on my breath.” driving Pinch beyond the bounds of all common sense. Skilley struggled to free himself, but Pinch’s hind Pip had to help. claws dug into his stomach. “What little one?” he cried. But how? Pinch ignored the question. “You’ve never killed He thought back to the day he had watched in horror another cat before.” His voice was like a razor, slashing as Bodkin was devoured. The memory made him shudder. through Skilley’s nerves. “I have.” And it made him angry. Was he once again doomed to be “What little one?” Skilley gasped as the claws dug a hapless witness at the death of a friend? deeper. He pushed and pulled, twisted and squirmed, but You’re only a mere spark of a mouse, Pip. Pinch had an unbreakable grip. Then another thought took hold. “Too small for a name, it was,” spat Pinch. If one mouse is a spark…then ten thousand mice are a conﬂagration. At that news, Skilley gave in to Pinch’s grip. “Don’t worry, Skilley,” he whispered. “We’re coming.” No, no. Not Too. Despite the burning pain in his hind leg, he crept Summoning the last of his strength, he wrenched his body from Nell’s pocket and lowered himself, unseen, down forward and whispered, “As I suspected…a coward—” her skirt. Pinch responded with a plaster-cracking yowl. Not from the insult, but from a most real and most painful injury.

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In his wrestling with Skilley, he’d backed against the From every corner of the inn they came. They broke chop room wall, where his posterior was stabbed by the through plaster and pushed up through floorboards. Pip sharp point of a nail. Even his thick hide could not resist had given the ancient signal and they had answered. that fateful spike of iron. He yowled again and dropped They swarmed to Skilley’s aid. Down the stairs they Skilley to the floor, who took advantage of Pinch’s distress streamed, up from the cellar, through the ceiling, flowing to scramble away. like quicksilver along the walls and across the floor to encir- His rage was volcanic as he rounded back on Skilley, cle Skilley in a gray tide, all the while washing back Pinch, not noticing the flicker of the gaslights. like so much flotsam, to the very feet of the humans. But Skilley did. “I ’ate these blasted mice!” screamed Pinch. They dimmed once. “I love these blessed mice!” sang Skilley. Twice. “Indeed,” cawed Maldwyn. A third time. Humans leapt onto chairs or tables, except for the few Within moments the smell of who were rendered inert as they observed the mischief musk was overpowering. of mice with a mixture of wonder and dread. Everyone in the room froze. An inspired madness had overtaken the room. And then came… the mice.

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his shoulder. With a caw and an awkward flutter of wings, the Tower raven escaped the grasp of the Ravenmaster and CHAPTER SIXTY flew to Skilley’s side. “Maldwyn!” the man commanded. But the Tower raven knew his dues. He stood erect next to Skilley, looking every bit worthy of the dignity of his Pip looked about him at the sea of mice that office, even with the patch of feathers missing from the flooded the floor, the bar, the stairs. Its tide middle of his forehead. Then he touched his beak ever so drove back the snarling, spitting Pinch. carefully to the cat’s brow. Like protective waters they Thwarted, Pinch screamed out incoherent threats and ebbed and flowed around insults, only identifiable as such by the timbre and pitch. Skilley. The exhausted He was joined in this madness by a gibbering wreck of a cat crouched, licking girl, whom some recognized as Adele, though others who a nasty wound on knew her well had their doubts. “Me cleaver!” she cried. “Where’s me cleaver? I’ll kill ’em all, like I done afore!” She tore at her hair. She ripped her apron to shreds. She stomped and kicked and slashed out at every mouse within reach. A double handful of coins tumbled from her torn pocket. “Me cheese money!” Flashes of gold and silver bounced and rolled across the floor to disappear beneath the gray carpet of mice. “That’s mine! MINE!” “It’s you who’s been stealing me cheese? And selling it!” cried Croomes. “Adele? Selling our cheese?” echoed Henry.

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As Adele inched toward the door, one of the Queen’s Nell carried Maldwyn directly back to him. “I rescued men cast her a grim look and barred the exit. him once,” she explained, “before I’d been sent to the Pinch chose that moment to release a long hiss. country. He was being mauled by cats. I heard the fright- The other humans backed away, giving him a wide ful noise and ran to the alley. The cats fled when they saw berth. The cat made random swats at the air as if attack- me. And my friends the mice helped me nurse the raven ing a swarm of bees. back to health, though I’m afraid he’ll never fly again.” It was Mr. Dickens who braved the cat’s insanity. He She settled the raven into the man’s arms. bent down and yanked him up by the scruff of the neck. “He weren’t supposed to be flyin’ in the first place.” Pinch immediately relaxed, not with calm, but rather as if The Ravenmaster gave the bird a severe look. his mind had simply disengaged itself and left his body to At last, Henry spoke. “My daughter has always had a operate as best as it could, which is to say, not at all. The winning way with animals.” Pausing to cast a guilty ginger cat hung motionless in Mr. Dickens’s grip. A bit of glance toward Nell, he added, “And after this day I’ll never frothy drool collected at the corners of his mouth. disbelieve her again—” The Ravenmaster made a hesitant move toward his “Is this story true?” asked the Queen. charge. “Maldwyn,” he called. “Are you alright, my boy?” “Oh, yes,” admitted Henry. “Nell could tame a wild—” “Someone will pay for this crime,” Queen Victoria “Merciful heavens! Will someone awaken me from said. “Oh, for the days of yore…” She shook her head. this lunacy? I was inquiring about the raven.” “But the headsman’s ax has grown rusty and dull.” “Seems it’s so.” The Ravenmaster examined the three Henry gulped and tugged at his collar. “Your Majesty,” scars across Maldwyn’s eye. “Besides these new wounds, he squeaked. “I truly don’t know what…how…when…” he bears older marks of teeth and claws.” “I do.” Nell pushed her way forward. The gray sea of “B-b-but t-t-the m-m-mice!” Adele stuttered with mice parted and opened a path to the raven. She stepped sobs and gasps. “Does no one care that this place is a carefully through and gently lifted Maldwyn in her arms. wretched den of rodents?” “Careful, young miss,” cried his master. “Maldwyn “Indeed,” Queen Victoria said. “I’ve never seen such can give you a nasty—” He stared in awe to see how an infestation. I do believe you’re in want of arsenic.” docile the raven was in her hand. “Well, upon my word.” “Wait!” interrupted Mr. Dickens and Croomes together. 218 219 Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:08 PM Page 220

After a surprised glance at the cook, Mr. Dickens went audience, Pip clambered onto Skilley’s shoulder and on. “Er…begging your pardon, but does Your Majesty not began to clean his wound. see what’s happened here?” He held out the disgraced cat. “But this is…it can’t be…it’s…,” stammered the Queen. “Our raven is safe,” the Queen said. “What has the rest “Are you proposing, sir, that a cat and mouse—historic of it to do with Our Person?” enemies—can live together in friendship?” Mr. Dickens seemed to put a great deal of store in his posi- “I have great expectations,” said Mr. Dickens. tion as a writer, for he pressed the royal lady. “Is it not evident? This cat was trying to kill Your Majesty’s raven.” He handed off the subdued beast to one of the Queen’s men. “The raven was saved by the blue cat. The cat that has just been saved by”—he cast his hand out over the sea of mice—“these creatures. The very ones who cared for your raven when he was attacked once before, as young Nell has just testified.” Queen Victoria took a moment to examine the scene. Slowly, she allowed the events of the previous minutes to take on a different meaning. “You can’t mean for Us to think—” The Queen’s eyes fell on an agitated mouse. As he pressed against the swell of his fellow creatures, a narrow corridor began to open. The Queen fixed her attention firmly on the mouse, and everyone else in the room obediently followed her gaze. Within seconds, a curious silence befell the company as they watched a limping Pip reach his friend, who lay panting in a corner of the room. Paying no heed to his

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handed to her by a common innkeeper. But then, the CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE entire affair had been odd. And it was not yet concluded. Henry handed her the slab. She ate the whole thing. And asked for another. “Wonderful cheese, is it not?” asked Mr. Dickens. A distressed Henry interrupted. “But whatever am I to do “I’ve never tasted its like,” she answered. “How is it pos- with the rest of these rodents?” sible?” She turned to Henry. “What is your secret?” “Thank your stars for them,” said Mr. Dickens. “Not Henry in turn applied to Croomes, who shrugged her only have they assisted in the rescue of a Tower raven, but massive shoulders. “An old family receipt,” she said rather I have a certain suspicion…” He scratched a hand through mysteriously. And she lifted her eyes to the ceiling, as if his groomed beard as if searching for the right words. inspecting it for signs of cracks. “Fetch me a bit of your Cheshire,” he said to Henry. Then Mr. Dickens, himself the creator of many an outrageous he turned to Queen Victoria. “Your Majesty,” he said. “May fiction, shook his head. “It’s more than that, I believe. It’s I entreat you to taste the most excellent cheese in England?” the mice, isn’t it, Agnes? With taste-testers such as these, Henry brightened when he realized what Mr. Dickens how could the recipe go amiss?” Although he smiled, his had asked. He glanced down at the cheese that had broken eyes bored into Croomes like two augers. when Adele flung the cloth-wrapped wheel at the wall. “Wha—?” Henry looked from Mr. Dickens to his “Something a bit fresher, perhaps?” suggested Mr. cook. It had been a wild gamble on the writer’s part, and Dickens in a low tone. it paid off handsomely. Henry nodded and bounded to the stairs. Agnes Croomes’s round face turned the shade of pick- “This is nonsense,” Queen Victoria said. “My dairy in led beets. “True enough. And why should I not rely on Windsor produces a most satisfactory variety.” them what knows best?” No one answered, so she contin- “I implore Your Majesty but to taste it,” Dickens said. ued unchecked. “I peer in on each new batch of cheese Henry returned with a slab of gold. after it’s aged a few months in the cellar. If the mice ’ave It was strange to see the Queen accept a piece of cheese been at it, I know it’s a fine batch. They’ll not touch a

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mediocre Cheshire. We’ve only the most persnickety mice here at the Cheese.” CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO “And if they turn up their noses at it, then what?” demanded an astounded Henry. Croomes turned to the Queen with pride and announced, “We sells it to the French.” “Ahem!” Queen Victoria cleared her throat, and the laughter that had been the result of Croomes’s announcement instantly died. From her post near the door, Adele gave the Queen a cloying curtsey. The Queen responded with a chilling look. In a voice just loud enough for all to hear, she announced, “We believe this young woman is in need of a reformatory. Red Lodge in Bristol will do nicely.” “Your Majesty!” wailed Adele. One of the Queen’s men was instantly at Adele’s side. Taking her ﬁrmly by the arm, he led her outside, adding in a soothing tone, “They’ve plenty of mice at Red Lodge, miss…you’ll feel right at home…” “Ruin. Ruin, and penury. Are these to be our fate?” muttered a woeful Henry. “If there are to be no further revelations,” the Queen continued, casting a severe glance over all assembled, “We should like to make a proclamation in light of this Charles Dickens day’s most unorthodox events.”

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The Queen addressed the crowd:

“Let it be known that the mice of Ye Olde Cheshire EPILOGUE Cheese are henceforth under Our Royal protection, as beﬁtting the guardians of the ﬁnest cheese in the realm. Furthermore, so long as a single mouse resides at this inn, Some few days following the Queen’s visit to the inn, Pip its doors shall never close.” found Skilley on the rooftop. The rain had swept toward the continent to bluster and blow across the innocent It was a moment that encouraged extravagance. French countryside. Ten thousand mice cheered. “I was just coming for you,” said a sleepy Skilley as Mr. Dickens took a blushing Croomes in his arms and he lazily stretched one leg, then another. led her around the room in a reel. “Yes, well.” Nell slipped an affectionate arm around her portly father. Pip licked his paw… The innkeeper looked down at her. “Its doors shall never stroked his ear… close…,” he whispered, dizzy with delight. licked his paw… And they never have. and touched his nose. “Are you still fretting about Too?” asked Skilley with a touch of irritation. “She’ll soon learn to get about on three legs. And it seems to me that she’s positively relishing her role as heroine––” “No, I’m certain that Too will be fine,” said Pip. Still, he allowed a final shiver of stale fear to pass through him. It had been beyond anyone’s hope to see little Too again. Yet they had found her, weak but alive, in a bloody corner of the garret landing. The very memory sent Pip into

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C . D i c k e n s a frenzy of ablution: he licked both paws at once and began to vigorously scrub at his face. “Gadzooks, Pip!” cried Skilley, his concern mounting. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?” “It’s our mutual friend, Mr. Dickens.” “Dickens?” Skilley was dumbfounded. “Why, thanks to him the inn is safe, and so are the mice. He’s no doubt even now scribbling away––” “He is not scribbling away, Skilley! He’s not slept for days, for want of knowing what to scribble!” “Say again?” “He lacks a beginning for his story.” Skilley coiled and uncoiled his tail as he stared at Pip in rapt attention. “And just how would you know this?” “I-I read his papers,” Pip confessed. “Oh, Skilley! It’s the most marvelous tale of two cities—” “You what? You read his papers! After what you said about reading a writer’s—” “But Skilley, now that I know what’s been troubling our Mr. Dickens”—Pip beamed a smile that showed his excellent teeth to greatest advantage—“I believe I may have found a small way to thank him for his kindness…”

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A u T H O R s A N OTEFROMTHE G LOSSARY congenial—friendly

he CheshIre We hope you have enjoyed T consternation—confused amazement; dismay Cheese CAT. Included here are definitions for abject—very low in spirit counterpane—a bedspread some words that may be new to you. In the or hope event that we missed a few, we suggest a trip culinary—having to do with cooking to the dictionary, a pastime that we find ablution—washing or most enjoyable. For more details about curmudgeon—an ill-tempered and stubborn person Charles Dickens, the Tower ravens, or Ye bathing drivel—nonsense; stupid or careless talk Olde Cheshire Cheese, you can visit our ague—chills, fever, and website at www.cheshirecheesecat.com. sweating; the flu dropsy—a medical condition where fluid is retained in tissues and joints Carmen Agra Deedy and Randall Wright apathy—lack of feeling dumbwaiter—a small elevator for moving food and other items or caring between floors

apoplexy—a stroke caused by a brain hemorrhage; an angry fit dyspepsia—heartburn; ill humor

audacity—daring; reckless boldness elixir—a cure-all; a medicinal concoction

auger—a spiral-shaped sharp-pointed tool used for boring holes erstwhile—former; in the past

bellows—a device for pumping air onto a weak fire to make it stronger filbert—a hazelnut

black pudding—sausage made from blood flotsam—the floating wreckage of a ship

brigand—a bandit; a thief flatulence—the state of having digestive gas (Yes, this is what you think it is.) bubble and squeak—cabbage fried with potatoes and sometimes meat gastronomic—having to do with the art and science of good eating caterwaul—to utter a yowling cry gob—a patterer’s word for “mouth” char-room—the place where cleaning supplies are stored gout—a form of arthritis, often caused by the overeating of rich foods choleric—angry; likely to throw nasty fits of temper ha-penny—short for “halfpenny,” which, in turn, is short for “half a penny” chummery—time spent chumming about with one’s chums hansom cab—a two-wheeled horse buggy that seats two people and a driver churlish—rude, surly hugger-mugger—British street talk for cloak and dagger secrecy; confusion claret—a kind of wine imperious—behaving like someone who is a supreme ruler cloying—excessively sweet Cheshire Cheese-interior-PRINTER:Cheshire Cheese Cat 6/29/11 5:09 PM Page 232

insatiable—impossible to satisfy rumination—a thought

irony—the use of words that mean the opposite of what one really intends scrivener—a professional copyist or writer; a scribe

kith and kin—friends and relatives, in that order skullduggery—dishonest behavior; trickery

languid—lacking force or quickness of movement soliloquy—the act of talking to oneself

lexicographical—having to do with the making of a dictionary squeamish—easily sickened, shocked, or disgusted

moggy—British street slang for a tomcat stillroom—a pantry where jams and jellies are kept

nether—lower stygian—pitch dark, like the River styx in the mythological underworld

palsy—a medical condition marked by uncontrollable shaking treacle—British word for molasses or partial paralysis trepidation—a state of alarm or nervousness

patter—the specialized language of street vendors or of certain criminals tryst—a secret meeting

peckish—hungry, sometimes to the point of irritation trundle—to move on or as if on wheels

penury—extreme poverty tuppence—British two-penny coin

perfidy—treachery; betrayal turgid—being in a swollen state perfunctory—halfhearted; done mechanically or carelessly unabsolved—not forgiven A SMATTERING OF PATTERING pernicious—very destructive; deadly unorthodox—out of the ordinary; Patterers’ words from Mr. Dickens’s notebook posthaste—quickly; with great speed not usual balamy—insane; eventually shortened to “balmy” hookem-snivey—trickery preposterous—unbelievable; nonsensical volatile—likely to change quickly milch—to trick or suddenly prodigious—huge; unusual snilch—to eye over carefully waxing—growing larger, stronger, thimblejigger—a trickster; literally, an expert prismatic—highly colored, brilliant; like the colors made by a prism at the pea and shell game fuller, or more numerous toff—a fine gentleman quicksilver—the common word for the element mercury whiffle—to blow whiddler—an informer or betrayer rapacious—greedy or predatory wraithlike—ghostly recalcitrant—unyielding; stubbornly refusing to give in to authority

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C OLOPHON

The original illustrations for this book were drawn in graphite on translucent vellum.

Text is typeset in Joanna, designed by Eric Gill and released by the Monotype Foundry in 1937. Charles Dickens’s journal pages are typeset in Adobe’s Poetica Chancery III. Pip’s handwriting is typeset in Emmascript by Kanna Aoki, who drew the letters while picnicking in san Francisco’s Golden Gate Park, and her writing was adapted as a font by Mark van Bronkhorst. Title is typeset in Monotype Foundry’s Gloucester MT Extra Condensed, based on a design created in 1896 by Bertram G. Goodhue.

Text pages are printed offset as single-color black on 55-pound Domtar Tradebook natural and bound with a reinforced adhesive binding. The book is jacketed with a 4-color, offset-printed cover on 100-pound C-1-s offset enamel with a matte film lamination, a spot gloss, and blind emboss.

Book and cover designers: Barry Moser, with Loraine M. Joyner

Production manager: Melanie McMahan Ives, with Courtney Hood

The first edition of this book was printed and bound in 2011 in the united states of America by Lake Book Manufacturing, Inc., Melrose Park, Illinois.